Clexa Drabbles
by Fleimkepa
Summary: Clarke and Lexa have a baby, but first they must navigate the pregnancy and each other. Started as a one-shot, now becoming somewhat of a series of ficlets. (Please feel free to send me prompts if you have any.)
1. A Wild Thing is Born

_Clarke and Lexa have a baby. (Please feel free to share the link on Tumblr if anyone has/knows of any Clexa blogs, I'd love to start taking prompt requests if anybody has some.) Please review! Tell me if you want some more! _

Lexa didn't smile freely, to smile was to betray one's thoughts, to show the enemy a glimpse of your soul, to whisper in unspoken words _look, I feel._

Lexa scowled and growled and sometimes she howled during the ardour of love but she didn't smile freely. Her smiles were reserved for one girl in particular, a girl like none that had came before; a girl who fell from the sky and became the woman who conquered mountains.

"You are _sure_?" the commander asked once again, glancing down to the slight curve of the sky leader's belly, almost hidden from sight behind the dark leather of her jacket. _Almost_. Lexa wanted to remove her glove, to reach out and touch the swell of her stomach, but not in front of her guard. _Not until they were alone and she could explore each and every inch of that curve_.

"As sure as I've ever been." Clarke tried again, like she was kick-starting an engine waiting for it to hum to life, to see some kind of acknowledgement on Lexa's face of what she had just explained.

"It is true _Heda_, _Klok _is with child." Nyko added during the silence that followed, "Three months I suspect."

Lexa had sent her wife to be checked over by a Woods Clan healer, distrustful of Skaikru medicine and the machines they brought with them from the sky-boats.

"Then it is to be celebrated," Lexa tightened her posture, moving from her wooden throne to the table where maps and other tools of war lay organised. "Indra send word to the clans in the north and south, _Ai houmon ste wi goufa_." she ordered, her demeanour unwavering.

"_My woman is with child_." Nyko translated quietly into her ear, Clarke was still getting used to Gona-sleng. The words might seem terse and laconic, but the fleeting glimpse she caught as Lexa glanced into her eyes said a thousand words, words that transcended her need to hear them out loud. Clarke was always more of a visual kind of person, maybe that's what she loved about Lexa the most. The way she spoke few words but painted a thousand crystal-clear masterpieces with the ones she chose.

"_Sha Heda_." Indra replied, gripping her spear as she stood stoically at the side of the throne. Clarke though she might have seen a lick of happiness behind those dark and war-marred eyes, she wasn't sure what it was but for a moment, just a fleeting moment, Indra's eyes weren't filled with that familiar absence of humanity. It was as close to _congratulations_ as Clarke knew she would receive from the General.

"Go now." Lexa instructed, staring at the maps on the table as she wondered where their enemies lay between here and Polis, how quickly could she slaughter them all and bring their armour home as trophies for her wife, she would not allow harm to fester and exist near her or their growing babe.

"_Heda_." Indra nodded as she dismissed herself, "_Hedatu_." she conceded with another nod as she passed Clarke, she wasn't sure what the word meant but she knew it must of been something worth asking about, Lexa's eyes had snapped up with a fire behind them upon hearing the phrase. She couldn't be sure whether it was prideful fire, or a burning rage.

"Hedatu?" Clarke asked with a scrunched face, she'd never been called that word before and had little to no idea of what it meant.

"-It means _second to only the commander_," Lexa explained. "the last time the word was used in our clan was before my lifetime, it is a way of saying_ my respect and fealty to you is second only to the leader_."

"Does it displease you?" Clarke swallowed, still uncertain on whether that fire behind her eyes was glowing pride or burning rage.

"It is of no importance right now, not at this very moment." she tightened her jaw, not breaking her eyes away from the maps for a second.

"What is of importance to you in this moment?" Clarke pried, exhaling a breath she didn't quite realise she was holding as she wanted nothing more than to be alone with her warrior, well, as alone as either of them could ever truly be with the demons and ghosts that constantly joined them. Always silently in their space and air like dust trapped in sunlight, always bonding them in a way only they could understand.

"Nyko tend to those who return from the City of Light, tell the guards not to allow anyone to disturb us." Lexa ordered, her hand tight on the hilt of her dagger.

Nyko quickly left, leaving them both in the silence of their quarters as the evening Summer sun peaked through a crack in the tent. Highlighting, underlining and punctuating the features that Clarke loved so much on that vengeful, war-marred lover of hers.

"Come." Lexa ordered, tapping an area on the map with her finger for Clarke to inspect.

"I think you're forgetting something…" Clarke practically growled, digging her feet in the hardened ground. Lexa loved her like this, as unforgiving and relentlessly insubordinate as Gustus warned her the sky woman would be the first time they met.

"_Beja._" she offered with a quirk of her plump lip. "Please." she tried again, in sky-tongue.

Clarke obliged and stepped to her side, looking down at the area of the map that Lexa pointed too. "What could possibly be beyond the mountains that you need?"

"That is where the Ice Queen's camp is, at the base of Mount Weather on the west-facing side." Lexa explained tersely.

"Mountains separate us and the Ice Nation, what do you need from them so badly?" Clarke asked, already assuming she would get another riddle for an answer.

"Their Queen's throne." Lexa said with stiffness in her air, unsheathing the dagger she gripped so tightly on her belt and driving it into the map where the base of the mountains lay, the emotion in her eyes was lost to the dark camouflage of her face. "_Ai houmon_ carries my first-born babe, when word carries over the mountains they may look to unseat our power so we must move first. You will sit as Queen over the mountains and lands you once looked down upon from the skies; that is my gift to you."

"These are peaceful times for all of our people and I don't want to sit as Queen over anything or anyone,_ except for you_." Clarke breathed, placing her hands on the side of Lexa's cheeks so she could steal her gaze.

Clarke could only think to describe the look on Lexa's face at the denial of her gift as a pout.

"Do you want to feel my stomach?"

"No." Lexa swallowed, glancing her wife up and down. "I can't count the number of people who have died at my hands, it feels wrong to touch something so precious with hands of war."

Clarke rolled her eyes, pulling her jacket off and throwing it on to the table. The swell of her stomach was clearer without the material to hide behind, to see it made her commander's heart feel like a lion pawing and snarling against an iron cage.

She grabbed the calloused and rough hand that sat on top of the table, guiding it towards her growing belly as Lexa's face softened for a moment.

"How does it make you feel?" Clarke asked, stepping closer into the hand that held her as the commander's jaw sat slightly slack and unhinged.

"I understand now," Lexa swallowed with wide eyes, glancing into Clarke's unwavering gaze that reminded her of the changing tides at sea, constantly rolling into different fractals and shades of blue. "Why your people wrote words and bound them together in parchment to sit on shelves for all of eternity, why you sing songs and draw pictures of the forest at dusk. I see now."

"You do?"

"For this... _feeling_."

"_For love and joy_." Clarke agreed, pressing herself against her warrior. gliding her tongue over a plump bottom lip, begging for entrance as she deepened her ministrations and painted pictures and orchestrated symphonies for her dear Heda on the gentle strokes and swipes of her tongue.

Something snapped inside of Lexa, something wild and toxic and poisonous, It was almost hateful. She wrapped her arms around Clarke's lower back and lifted her onto muscular and tanned hips. Allowing her soft pale fingers to toy with the thick locks and plaits of her hair.

Lexa's kiss was deep and it was angry. Angry for things that Clarke hadn't done yet, but somehow knew that she would do because she was so exquisitely Clarke. Like venturing into the forest after dusk, or refusing to tell Lexa where she was going, only sending word that she would be back for a certain time that she was _almost always late for_.

Lexa felt her chest almost heave at the thought, her voice broke into something that was ropeable and possessive. "_You are mine_," she almost sobbed into Clarke's throat, "and you and I shall be one forever, beyond the rise and destruction of gods and worlds."

The commander realised what this new feeling was, it was more powerful than any hate she had ever known on battlefields from here to the edges of deserts and seas. The moment she touched the skin of Clarke's stomach, her fingertips grazing over where she was nurturing and growing their child it struck her like a blow from a maul in combat, it was the most powerful love she had _ever_ known.

…

Months had passed, the curve of Clarke's stomach was well apparent with or without her jacket and the swell of her breasts were the newest focal point of Lexa's attention.

Moonlight peaked through the curtain of their tent, dancing and shimmering over the commander's tanned, muscular physique as she leaned into her Queen, bowing over her on a chancel of bear skins and pillows, her body the altar at which she would worship and give thanks for the pleasures she'd grown to know since her houmon fell from the Heavens. "I love you." Clarke moaned in her ear, feeling the warrior claim every inch of her skin and bones with passionate kisses, like waves crashing over breakers on the dawn of a blistering hot day.

"Say it again." Lexa commanded with the faint hint of a whimper lingering in her voice as she tried with all of her strength to suppress the lion that was hungry for it's prey and be gentle with her wife, the _Skaikru way_.

The commander had no doubts that they would play this game until the birth of a new sunrise, that's what they normally did.

Clarke grabbed the back of Lexa's hair, rolling her onto the bed. Lexa pretended to fight back, she always did. Sluggish moves and slow reflexes that Clarke could easily deflect, just so she could save herself the ardour of admitting how much she loved having her Queen straddle her hips, using her body as the throne on which she'd rule from.

"I love you, _Commander_." Clarke teased, trying to bait out the possessive overpowering lust that she was used to from her wife.

"Calling me such things in bed is a dangerous tactic my love." she smiled, her rough and calloused hands palming soft breasts as she sat up with force, her houmon's legs wrapped around her back as she left hot, languid kisses down Clarke's jaw and shoulder, pausing over the hot beating pulse in her neck that drummed the most ferocious battle cry the commander had ever heard.

"As much a I enjoy learning the ways and intricacies of you sky-people, if you want to be _claimed_ like Trigerdakru, then you must _ask_ like Trigerdakru." Lexa acquiesced, her eyes wild with lust.

"_Beja Heda_." Clarke whispered into her neck, teasing her defined and tense jaw line with the tip of her nose, she breathed hot languid breaths into her Commander's ears and waited patiently, knowing she had already won. "_Ai body ste foryu_." Clarke pleaded, _my body belongs to you_.

Lexa growled and flipped their positions with little to no force. She grabbed Clarke's neck from behind whilst her sky-princess quickly got on her hands and knees for the warrior behind her.

"Is this what you want?" Lexa asked gently, giving her time to change her mind if she so wished, her fingertips unable to keep away from her swollen belly.

"Make me yours." she breathed through an intimate whisper.

Lexa unleashed her lion and together they pounced, nipping and biting at her wife's pale shoulder until the hiss beneath her and the metallic taste on her tongue told her she'd drew the blood she was looking for, sucking gently on the wound as she drove her hips into Clarke from behind, devouring every wanton whimper and moan that escaped her wife's throat.

This wasn't about domination, it was the opposite. It was about worshipping this masterpiece underneath her. It was about ravishing and claiming every inch of her, signing her name at the corner of the parchment so everyone who glanced upon it's mark would know that she had bore witness to this, she had _been here_. She pushed digits inside of her fast and hard without thought, kissing, licking and biting her favourite spots over her back, until she noticed how wet her core was, t_oo wet_, she thought.

She knew as soon as she heard the delicate noise leave Clarke's lips through a wince that something was wrong, just from that simple _ah_ that resonated through her bones.

She pulled her fingers away quickly, holding them to the fractal of moonlight that crept through the tent as she saw the unmistakable tint of blood_._

"_Indra!_" she summoned for the General outside her tent, covering them both with bear pelt to protect their dignity, not that she cared much for something so small in that very moment.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Clarke asked, turning to face the commander with bleary eyes as the moonlight Indra allowed in the tent upon entrance highlighted how pale Clarke's face had grown.

"Heda?" Indra asked with a twinge of confusion in her brow.

"Go with our fastest riders to Camp Jaha and bring me the skai-fisas. _She bleeds_." Lexa said without wasting a breath. "**Go now!**" she shouted.

"Lexa what are you talking about?" Clarke's voice joined the flurry of panic as Indra ran from the tent with urgency Clarke had only witness her possess on the battlefield.

Green eyes flickered for a moment, quickly and decisively thinking of a course of action in the interim as Clarke peaked under the bear hide and saw what everybody was talking about.

"_Oh my god_." her voice quivered, noticing the little spots of blood on the fur. "No not this, _please not this_." Clarke begged invisible forces, undecided on whether it was the gods Marcus Kane's mother had taught her about on the Ark, or maybe it was the demons and ghosts who hid like dust caught in sunbeams, always haunting her and her commander.

Lexa sat in silence, still trying to think of a plan like she was on the battlefield under artillery fire, yet nothing would come to her in the dead of night.

"I think this is my fault…" she whispered, pulling her hole-ridden shirt and underwear on as she knelt at Clarke's side. "I shouldn't have been so rough with you, forgive me." she begged through eyes as green as the forest tops.

"Just, tell me this will be okay." Clarke asked with wild eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as Lexa quickly realised she'd never known such palpable, deep fear before. "Please?"

She swallowed a hard gulp, "I cannot do that Clarke." she answered honestly, pressing her head against the Sky leader's.

"_Please_ Lexa, just tell me the healers will fix this." Clarke begged once more with pleading eyes that revealed how young and innocent she still was beyond the bloodshed and war she'd witnessed, too young and innocent to know fear like this.

Lexa refused to lie to her wife or to treat her as her mother once did, as if she was too fragile for the truth and_ needed _to be lied to. Lexa didn't lie full stop, and maybe that was why Clarke loved her so much.

"I don't know what will happen," Lexa admitted in the softest voice Clarke had ever heard her use. "But I know that our babe has Heda blood pumping through it's veins, and skin and bones made from the stardust of skies his mother once owned. Our _Goufa_ was born to challenge and conquer, and should they wish to do just that before they so much as enter this world, then we shall know they possess my heart and your mind, _Klok laik kom Skaikru."_

"Okay." Clarke nodded her head with frightened eyes, Lexa's rough hand moving the golden strands of hair out of her face dutifully whilst she knelt at her side.

…

"And you are _sure_?" Lexa asked once again, the Skai-healer putting his equipment back into his sack methodically as Clarke lay under bearskin hides fast asleep from the sedative she'd requested, too anxious to rest as ordered by the healer without the extra help.

"I am positive Commander, it was just some light spotting," he nodded once again. "plenty of bed-rest and she will be fine."

"Are you prepared to guarantee that with your life, healer." she growled, playing with the tip of her blade in the arm of her throne as Indra stepped inside the tent as if on cue.

"I- I am." the healer swallowed, remembering Octavia's words not to give the commander a reason to slit his throat as soon as he met her at the gate, _because they all knew she would be itching for one._

"What medicines does she need? I will send my riders to the five deserts to collect what is needed if necessary." she began to pace near the table like a lion trapped in a cage without it's lioness.

"She doesn't need any medicine, just bed-rest and no heavy exercise," he tried to explain once more. "If she is in any pain, then your healers here should be able to help her, however you can send for me any hour of the night and I will come." he promised.

"You may go." she nodded, sheathing her blade back into her belt.

"_Now_." Indra ordered, hitting the floor with the bottom of her spear which sent him scuttling out of the tent. "How is _Hedatu_?" she asked, glimpsing at the sky-leader as Clarke slept.

"She sleeps for now, the skai-fisa assures us the babe is safe but I have yet to grow trust for sky medicine." Lexa said before pausing on words she'd never thought to say before. "_Thank you_, for last night." the leader offered forward to her hardiest warrior.

"You are welcome, Heda." Indra nodded, accepting thanks as she stepped closer into Lexa's quarters.

"I want you to assure that Clarke doesn't leave these walls without the best warriors watching her with their lives." Lexa ordered, glancing to her sleeping wife as she fought the urge to let her eyes soften in front of Indra.

"That will be no easy feat Heda, Hedatu proves difficult to guard." Indra mused, not daring to remind her leader of the times Clarke had managed to slip out underneath guard watch to go wandering in the nearby woods.

"If she doesn't know she is being watched, she will have no reason to hide." Lexa explained, wanting to smirk at her own logistical ingenuity.

"Explain Heda."

"I want archers in the trees to keep her safe when she sneaks out, I want the best riders from clans as far north and south as the horizon bends to trail her on the ridges without her spotting. I want Tondc's bravest warriors ready to protect her if need be. I want Octavia to know of this plan, Clarke trusts her and I trust Octavia to convince her otherwise if Clarke grows suspicious. I ask these things of you because I trust you Indra, I trust you with the most precious things ever to be mine." Lexa explained, her jaw tightening.

"Consider it done Heda she will not know we are there, I will prepare a battalion." Indra said gruffly, hitting her spear against the floor once more; almost as if she were punctuating a sentence.

"Then it is done." Lexa nodded, standing from her throne. "No one is to disturb us for the rest of today, I wish to be with _Ai houmon_."

…

When Clarke awoke, she could see through the crack in the tent flap that the sun was already setting over the forest tops. She groaned and pressed her face back into the cushions, annoyed that she'd wasted an entire day in bed.

She kicked the bear hides off of her naked body, sitting up on the bed with out stretched arms before rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

"Don't even think about it," Lexa warned from her throne, "You are to stay in bed."

"Lexa that isn't what the doctor ordered-"

"No, it is what I order." Lexa interrupted her, grabbing a leather bound book at the side of her throne, a book she once knew back to front when she was small. She moved with prowess from where she sat to their bed, pulling the bear skins back over Clarke's slight frame.

"This is ridiculous." Clarke growled, grabbing the gloved hand that pulled animal skins up to her neck. "You do not order me, _Commander_."

"I order you not as the Heda, I order you as your wife." Lexa quickly added, her eyes softening and her lips pursing as if she wasn't sure what to say in this moment; but she was more than sure, the certainty of what she was about to say had kept her awake for the last two days whilst Clarke had slept blissfully unaware. "I'm sorry." she whispered, falling to her knees at Clarke's bedside, bowing her head as if her houmon was the enemy and she was conceding the battle; ready to have her throat cut.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Clarke asked through narrowed a narrowed gaze. She lifted her commander's chin with delicate fingers, green disconsolate eyes meeting hers as she saw the veins in Lexa's throat pulse under the skin from her tensing.

"I was careless and rough." Lexa admitted, "It is my fault you bleed."

"No." Clarke quickly corrected her and Lexa's brow quirked. "It was nobody's fault, you heard that from your own healers too. Spotting is… not uncommon." she swallowed.

Lexa broke their locked gaze first, shame etched in every line and dip of her face. "You are to stay by my side until our baby is born, you are not to leave my sights."

"...Is that you ordering me as my wife again?"

"No, as the Heda." Lexa said with a voice that dared Clarke to argue, lifting her head high. "I must keep you safe, and whilst you are _incapacitated_ the Ice Nation may see you as an easy mark."

"I'm pregnant, not incapacitated. I could still fight if I needed to." Clarke barked back through a challenging snarl.

"That I do not doubt." Lexa conceded with a smirk, "However, whilst my warriors are still capable of fighting without your assistance needed amongst their ranks, I'd like you to have this as a gift…" she handed Clarke the leather bound book, the only one in her possession.

"You give gifts now?"

"I tried to give you the lands and mountains, but apparently my wife doesn't wish to rule over anyone but me." she cocked a smile with possessive pride that was eager to celebrate this victory.

Clarke examined the book in her hands, the leather was worn by the thousands of hands that must of touched its cover before herself, the inside was stamped by a library it would never be returned to. "_Where The Wild Things Are,"_ Clarke read aloud, glimpsing at the illustrations of large lumbering beasts. "What is it about?" Clarke asked, trying to hide the quiver of a smile that her big, brave warrior was once a small babe herself, dreaming of wild beasts and adventures in made up worlds.

"It's about a boy who conquers the jungle and becomes the king of the wild things," Lexa replied, "my mother read this to me when I was a child, as her mother once did, as will I with our _goufa_."

"I like the sound of that." Clarke admitted, finally giving this poor beggar the smile she'd been desperately waiting for. "...You're not much of the reading kind though." she mused as she flicked through the pages.

"This new-found peace amongst our lands has given me time to consider many luxuries I may indulge in outside of my responsibilities."

"Is that so?" the sky-leader smiled, "Maybe you should practice for the baby and read to me first."

"Perhaps." Lexa mused, her lips relaxing into a smirk.

…

"I stink."

"I do not care."

"I do, you won't keep me prisoner here. I'm going to the lake to bathe." Clarke argued, digging her feet in the ground as she grabbed her knives and sheathed them on her belt and thigh.

Lexa had been preparing for this moment, she was surprised her wife managed to last so long obeying her word. A full two weeks without trying to escape her sights, the commander quickly realised her sky princess loved it with equal measure having the warrior's eyes blaze only for her, but she could feel her growing antsy and moody being caged whilst her little wings were desperate to flutter through the breeze of the forest outside of her bounds.

"If you must go then wait until dusk when the light is dim and I will come with you." the commander added, strolling to the table where a maiden had placed their lunch, she grabbed the plate of grapes and offered one forward to Clarke's lips between her fingers. "Eat." she ordered, tired of seeing the skaikru leader refuse food.

Clarke wasn't sure why or how, but she broke into tears. A sob that consumed her body and forced her chest to shudder, squalling and unable to stop as she tried to hide her face away behind her palms. "_I- I-"_

"_Princesa_, what troubles you?" Lexa frowned, putting the plate of grapes down as she kneeled at Clarke's feet and gently tried to pry her hands away.

"_You._" Clarke practically snarled through her broken sob, pushing the commander's calloused hand away from her cheek. "I'm not a child Lexa! I haven't had a _minute_ of privacy in weeks."

"_Indra, send for the healer,"_ Lexa called through the tent to her General outside in Trigadersleng language, "Something is wrong with _Ai houmon_, she cries for no reason-"

"Don't you dare Indra_!_" Clarke interrupted her wife, out-ranking her order in front of her most trusted general, "I'm not sick, I'm pregnant and I'm moody and** I'm tired**, _and you are not helping_." the sky-leader aimed the insult and took fire at her wife, shooting to her feet and stormed out of their tent past the nearby guards questioning eyes.

"_Clarke!_" Lexa growled under her breath as she quickly caught up to her wife's pace, adamant that she would not be seen to quell with her woman in front of her people. "My word is _final_, you are not leaving the camp unattended."

"Fine." Clarke answered, spinning on her feet as her large bump pressed against Lexa's toned body, tucking a tendril of dark brown hair behind the commander's ear as she knew this game all too well, the cat and mouse routine they played in public when they couldn't be seen to squabble. "Octavia, _the Commander _asks that I don't leave the camp alone, will you come with me to the lake and then on to Camp Jaha?"

"Oh _now_ you wish to go to Camp Jaha." Lexa muttered under her breath, well aware of her skai-houmon's tactics.

"Yeah sure," Octavia agreed, stepping forward from the fire she was nurturing with maple wood. "You wanna go now?" she asked, holstering her weapons as she knew all too well of the Heda's plan, over twenty warriors had practiced for this moment in the dead of night away from camp for weeks. Not that Clarke knew that.

"Yeah." Clarke nodded, before turning to Lexa, she noticed her eyes first; they were furious and unforgiving but her plump lips were silent, her jaw wound too tight to speak. "I'll be back at dusk." she assured her, grasping her gloved hand and pressing it to the side of her swollen stomach.

_Which means she will be back after night-fall_, Lexa thought. "If this is what will please you Clarke." she conceded, before turning her back and marching to her tent as her cape blew slightly in the breeze, she flickered like a flame, Clarke imagined that she would probably burn with rage like one too in this moment.

Lexa paused as she passed Indra's watchful gaze that had witnessed the scene unfold, "_You know what to do_." she whispered under her breath in Trigedasleng.

…

Clarke laid flat on the rocks in the opening of the lake with Octavia at her side, both of them taking the luxury of letting the sun dry the water off of their skin until only little patches of salt remained.

"I've missed this." Clarke admitted with a sigh, rubbing the swell of her stomach.

"Missed what?" Octavia asked absentmindedly, noticing a branch move in the distance as she imagined one of the archers watching over them moving gracefully through the trees.

"The silence of it all," Clarke smiled, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her bare skin. "We spent all our lives trapped in a tin can floating through space, the first time I ever heard dead silence was when we came to the ground."

"Don't you think it's kind of overwhelming sometimes? Back on the Ark there was always this hum, you know? Like the sound of engines and vents and metal..." Octavia remembered, drifting back to her home if only for a moment.

"Yeah I remember." Clarke agreed, "I like the hum down here better though, the sound of twigs crunching underneath your feet and trees swaying in the wind. I've still not gotten used to it."

"Me neither."

"Maybe we never will." the sky-leader sighed.

Octavia sat up on her elbows, grabbing her shirt and jeans as she pulled them back on, Clarke quickly took her lead and grabbed her own neat pile of clothes that she'd meticulously folded.

"Have you and Lexa talked about a birth plan yet?" Octavia asked, combing her fingers through the still-wet tips of her hair.

Clarke snorted at the thought, her mind drifting to the never-ending nights she awoke to find her sleepless wife hunched over the battle table, planning meticulous details like they were on the eve of war. "You could say that." she laughed. "There's a council meeting convening to discuss the plans, Jaha and Kane are concerned that a grounder birth isn't safe."

"Safe? Yes. Harder? Most definitely." Octavia mused, jumping up as they walked back to their horses.

"I don't know, I kind of like the sound of it, just me and Lexa you know?" Clarke said, imagining her and the Commander, the sacrosanct silence of just them alone in their quarters, how sweet the sound would be when that silence would be broken by a baby's cry. She wondered what kind of mother Lexa would be, what kind of mothers they both would be. Her gut told her Lexa would be the over-protective lioness, watching with unwavering focus on baited breaths over their young.

"I still don't think it would kill you to convince her to allow you some pain relief."

"She's not big on the whole sky medicine thing, I think birth is kind of a baptism by fire to them, the blood, the pain-" she grimaced, not wanting to waste another second thinking on just _how_ painful it would be.

"Easy to say when she's not the one pushing out a baby." Octavia chuckled.

She had Clarke there.

…

It was on the trip back from Camp Jaha that she noticed something wrong in the air.

The wind blew through the trees but the sound of birds at dusk overhead was absent, like they knew there was something lurking in the foliage beneath. The sound of a branch snapping in the not too far distance made her body tense and her stare narrow.

"Did you hear that?" Clarke asked Octavia with a panicked whisper, pulling on the reins to halt her horse as she grabbed the dagger attached to her thigh.

"Hear what?" Octavia lied, biting her tongue as she could only imagine the death stare Indra would be throwing the archer who'd made such a careless mistake.

"Nothing." Clarke conceded, "Just pregnancy brain I guess."

Octavia forced a laugh, nodding her head as their horses picked up pace again. "Sucks to be you right?"

"Yeah…" Clarke smiled, running her hand over the tree trunk they passed, her fingers grazed over a wound to its bark, fresh sap glistening on her fingers. She imagined the tip of a sword hacking through it's skin by an unknowing warrior on horseback, the fresh sap told her this must have been a recent wound. "Octavia I think we're being followed…" she said quietly, keeping her pace the same in case they were being watched by Ice Nation spies.

"No way." Octavia laughed again, this time more forcefully.

Clarke could see in her body language that something wasn't right, she couldn't place her finger on it, maybe it was the way her pulse quickened underneath her skin or the way her eyes stayed focused on the trail ahead, not daring to look the Sky-leader in the eyes incase they told her she knew something.

"Okay…" Clarke nodded, knowing none of this was okay at all.

"So what did Abby say?" Octavia enquired, eager to change the conversation.

"I'm fine, the baby is fine, she doesn't approve of Lexa's plans for a grounder birth, the usual." she sighed, rubbing her bump. "She can't explain why I haven't felt anything from the baby yet other than indigestion, Lexa keeps saying _it is because the child knows the importance of reserving strength and energy for the true fight_." she mimicked her wife in her best stoic and tight impression of the Commander, lifting her middle and pointer finger over her eyes as a substitute for warpaint.

Octavia laughed so hard she snorted.

Clarke could have swore she heard another laugh though, a laugh that belong to neither of them, and by the swallow Octavia just took, she knew her friend had heard it too.

"Tell me you didn't hear that?" Clarke shot her a stare, a stare that dared her to lie once again.

"It was probably an echo…" Octavia tried to calm her.

"It's the Ice Nation, they've sent spies, we need to get back to the others _now_." Clarke growled, unsheathing her dagger as she dug her heels into the horse's side.

Before she could race her way back to camp, Octavia's hand quickly shot out and pulled the reins, halting the horse. "I promise you it's not Ice Nation spies, if you fly all the way back to camp and fall off of that horse, Lexa will serve me as the main course at the next solace feast _and you know that._" she said with pleading eyes.

"You better tell me what you know and tell me _fast_." Clarke growled as they continued their trail back to camp.

"Clarke if I tell you that I can't, will you please just trust me that I have your best interests at heart…" Octavia pleaded with a frown.

"It's _her_ isn't it." Clarke silently mouth before rolling her eyes.

"You know I can't answer that."

Clarke tightened her jaw and swallowed the heat in her throat, the heat that came from pure unadulterated anger that Lexa would send spies to watch over her, to watch her _bathe._

_Ouch_, Clarke cried out. Halting the horse as she steadied herself on its back. "Something is wrong_!_" she shouted, clutching her sides as she let out another pained cry.

"Clarke? Talk to me?" Octavia stammered nervously, dismounting her horse as she jumped to her friend's side.

"Something isn't right..." Clarke called out again.

And then it happened, what she was waiting for.

Archers jumped down from the trees gracefully, their skeletal masks immediately recognisable to Clarke as the ones she saw fighting by her side when they took Mount Weather. Riders rode down from the ridges, their horses faster than she could fathom. Warriors rushed towards her, previously hidden in the bushes and foliage, had it not been for the look of concern etched into every war-painted line of their faces. She might assume this was an ambush.

"_Hedatu!_" Indra called from trees as she ran towards them, leaping over a collapsed branch until she stood at her commander's second's side. "What is wrong? I will send for every healer this side of the mountain!" she roared with a similar gravel in her voice to Lexa.

"_What's wrong?_" Clarke asked rhetorically with a cocked eyebrow, suddenly recovered from whatever faux-ailment had taken her. "I think you know what's wrong Indra, take me to the Commander. _Now_."

Indra wasn't often surprised, but Clarke's ingenuity surprised her. She had underestimated this sky girl.

…

Clarke rode back into the camp with at least twenty of Lexa's best warriors trailing behind her, an air of dread hanging over them heavier than any acid fog sent by the Mountain Men. None of them dared to wonder what their commander would do when she saw that the Sky-leader had wised on to their tactics.

"Heda, I was riding through the woods with Octavia when I came across twenty of your warriors lost in the trees. I thought the least I could do was deliver them back to you safe and sound before I go to Camp Jaha for the night." Clarke narrowed her eyes as she forced a smile upon her cheeks to keep up appearances, dismounting her horse. "_Your fight is over_." Clarke mouthed silently at her wife.

"Indra, Octavia and _Clarke_. Our quarters now." Lexa seethed.

…

Lexa and Clarke had never so much as disagreed in front of their people, let alone argued.

Not until today.

"You sent twenty of your people to watch me _bathe_ and you cannot see why I am upset?" Clarke snarled, millimetres away from the commander's face.

"Maybe we should leave you two-"

"Stay where you are." Lexa and Clarke both growled at Octavia at the same time.

The heat was palpable between them, the anger hung heavy in the air like the static before a lightning strike. Indra swallowed, licking her dry lips as she wondered whether this would be the day her fight was destined to be over. She would face her fate with honour and decorum, whether Octavia would do the same was doubtful to the warrior.

"I sent my warriors to watch over you, _to keep you safe,_ and it so happened that you chose to go bathing." Lexa acquiesced, her demeanour unwavering in the face of her furious pregnant wife.

"And you-" Clarke turned with the speed of a lion chasing it's prey to point at Octavia. "_You knew!_" she snarled.

"I was right there bathing with you, it wasn't exactly my proudest moment either." Octavia justified her actions, crossing her arms over her body.

"You will speak to the commander's houmon in no such way!" Indra shouted at her second, blowing the dust out of Octavia's ears with the volume.

"**Enough!**" Lexa roared louder than Clarke had ever heard her roar before. "We are Trigedakru, **not** savages and we will conduct ourselves as such and cease with this shouting." Lexa growled. "How did she know you were there?" Lexa turned to ask her general calmly.

"Well-" Indra cleared her throat, knowing the answer may see her fight ended at her commander's knife. "You see-"

"Heda, Clarke did an impression of you and an archer in the trees laughed, drawing her attention." Octavia explained, taking the heat of a thousand suns away from her warrior as Lexa's gaze burned into her soul.

Suddenly Clarke grew quiet at the thought of the impression she did of Lexa. Somehow she didn't think the heda would find it funny knowing twenty of her most respected warriors bore witness to her wife imitating her.

"I see." Lexa swallowed, tightening her jaw as she turned to look upon her wife who suddenly looked very sheepish.

"You two are dismissed, this is never to be spoken of again." Lexa said without breaking eye contact with Clarke. "_Now_!" she ordered, both of them quickly retreating out of their leader's quarters to lick their wounds.

"Lexa-"

"You make a mockery of your wife when her back is turned?" Lexa asked, her eyes weren't filled with the furious anger Clarke was waiting for, they were filled with disappointment and it made it all the more worse.

"It could be worse, I could send twenty of my warriors to watch over you whilst _my_ back is turned." Clarke fired back, ready to load more ammo.

"I sent my warriors to protect you, because _I love you_." Lexa's lip quirked, the word feeling foreign in her mouth. "Now, I must kill the _gona _who laughed."

"You aren't going to kill him."

"I'll kill him with my bare hands, I will kill anyone who dare laugh at my mockery."

"I wasn't mocking you!" Clarke stressed, pounding the floor like a caged wolf.

"_Then what was you doing?_" Lexa hissed, closing the proximity between herself and her wife.

"I was just telling Octavia what my mother said about the baby's health!" Clarke explained, continuing to pound the floor.

At the mere mention of their child Lexa visibly relaxed, the anger in her stare dissipating until all that remained was curiosity. "What word does she send?" Lexa took a moment away from their argument to ask.

"I am well, the baby is well, she can't understand why I haven't felt them kick yet…"

Lexa ran her thumb over the large bump, suddenly reminded of the life growing within Clarke. She would not argue with her houmon around their child, never again would she do so.

Even if it meant conceding this battle so she may win that war.

"It is because our child knows the importance of reserving strength and energy for the true fight." Lexa sighed, stiffening her posture and raising her chin slightly.

"That's what I said when the archer laughed." Clarke shifted awkwardly on her feet.

"I do not understand how this is funny?"

"It wasn't that he was laughing at, I think it was the way I said it."

"Show me." Lexa ordered, moving to sit in her throne.

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

"**Show me.**" Lexa asked once again, the tone of her voice unwavering.

Clarke swallowed and inhaled a deep breath, clearing all of the emotion from her face as she repeated what she said earlier in the same slow and stern pace, her jaw tight with blue eyes peaking at Lexa through the openings between her middle and pointer fingers. Lexa would be lying if she didn't admit that the impression was fairly accurate, she just didn't understand the entire joke.

"What are the fingers over your eyes supposed to be?" Lexa asked sternly.

"Warpaint."

Lexa finally broke and began to laugh softly, shying her gaze away as Clarke laughed a little too. Lexa's laugh was the sweetest sound in the world to Clarke, she could count on one hand how many times she'd heard it, it's sound was soft and palatable like honey, she felt drunk on it and desperate for more.

"See, I can be funny." Clarke smiled softly, stepping forward and kneeling at her wife's feet, pressing her cheek against her knee. "Am I forgiven, Heda?" she whispered playfully.

"Once I have killed the archer." Lexa nodded.

"You are not killing the archer." Clarke rolled her eyes.

Lexa swallowed and conceded, knowing in her gut that Indra would punish the warrior more than sufficiently for embarrassing her in front of the commander. "Fine, but I could if I so wished, remember this."

"I know," Clarke agreed, running her hands up Lexa's thighs. "But I can think of far more interesting ways to make your ego feel better, Commander."

"You have my attention, _Princesa_." Lexa tilted her head.

…

"Your mother set fire to the skies and stars on her way to the Earth, cast from Heaven to conquer these forests and mountains for her people. I sent three hundred warriors to kill her when I heard of this _Skaikru… _and she turned them all to dust on the blink of an eye-"

Clarke stirred from her sleep at the sound of the whispers, her eyes focusing on the scene in front of her. Lexa laid on her elbow with her hand resting on her wife's swollen center, her thumb occasionally danced over the pale skin. Clarke loved her like this; away from the prying eyes of her people in the dead of night when they were just like any other couple, when they weren't busy playing leaders. In the dead of night without her warpaint, moonlight dancing the waltz with love as it's partner in her green eyes, Clarke thought her wife looked like any other woman. _Maybe in a different life this is what they could have been_, she thought.

"Did I awaken you?" Lexa asked, glancing up to find blue orbs watching her quietly from the pillows above.

Clarke smiled and shook her head, running her hands and fingers over the dark locks splayed over her bare chest, root to tip. "Why aren't you sleeping? We have to go to Camp Jaha at dawn." the Sky-leader reminded her sleepless warrior.

"I have grown too accustomed to the luxury of silence when you sleep." Lexa whispered back, pressing a chaste kiss to her houmon's stomach.

"Is that your way of saying I talk too much when I'm awake?" Clarke gave a quiet laugh.

Lexa smiled, glancing into her eyes. "No the silence lets me think, Octavia informs me it's of the Skai way to pass on stories to the young."

Clarke tucked the hair behind Lexa's ear, trying to suppress a grin at the idea of Lexa telling stories to their baby. "Why that story?" she asked curiously, something about the way Lexa told it entranced her.

"Because," she swallowed, leaning up to press a kiss to her houmon's forehead. "one day it will be the story on the first page when they write the history of this new world."

The laid in one another's silence peacefully, the soft hum of trees swaying in the wind was the only sound throughout the camp. Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa's neck whilst her warrior lay on top of her, shielding her, protecting her from any threat that may come to them during the cloak of night. Lexa insisted on sleeping like this from the night she knew of their babe, at first Clarke would try to wriggle from underneath her. _'Is it a dominance thing?_' she would ask when they were awake. Lexa would always dismiss the question and pretend she didn't know what her wife was talking about, it took three weeks for Clarke to finally force the answer from her lips.

'_I sleep that way so that if anyone was to attack, they would have to get through me first_.' she admitted with the tight and tense jaw Clarke had came to know her by.

After that Clarke found it difficult to sleep without her warrior resting over her, snoring gently in her ear whilst she absentmindedly ran her fingertips over the goosebumps of her Heda's muscular back.

It felt like a twinge at first, like muscles in her stomach twitching. Then it felt like a goldfish swimming around in her tummy, absentmindedly bumping into the glass.

"Lexa!" she gasped, nudging her in the ribs.

The commander bolted up, grabbing her hunting knife from under the pillow as she tiredly mumbled in Gona-sleng, words Clarke didn't understand. "What do you need." Lexa asked dutifully, her eyes surveying the tent for any possible danger.

"_Feel._" Clarke grinned, grabbing her calloused hand and pressing it to her belly where little thumps greeted it's mother's uncertain palm. Lexa's face was suddenly ridden of every line of exhaustion and sleep, her eyes lighting up in a way Clarke had never seen before.

"The child?" Lexa asked, her mouth slack as her fingers gently moving over the spot where their baby drummed against the skin.

"I think it's the baby kicking." Clarke laughed with shock, seven months pregnant and she'd only just felt the movements she knew instinctively well.

"_Ai goufa_?" Lexa grinned, each tiny flutter hitting her palm like the beat of a war drum.

"I think your baby is excited to meet you, they must like your stories." Clarke whispered against her hair.

Lexa leant into the curve of Clarke's stomach, pressing a kiss gentler than any she had ever delivered before against its surface. "_Yu gonplei ste begon._" she whispered against her wife's skin in grounder tongue.

Clarke tensed for a moment, swallowing nervously. "What do you mean their fight is over?" she asked, knowing exactly what that phrase implied.

"_Yu gonplei ste begon._" Lexa repeated, glancing into her wife's worried eyes. "It means _your fight begins_." she smiled proudly.

…

The sun beat down on Lexa's back as she hid in the sparse foliage of the opening near the river, her men waiting silently above as they spotted the elk that drank from the waters. The elk that would soon be dinner for the camp, its antlers were bigger than any she had ever seen before, _it was majestic_. She almost felt bad for the end it would shortly meet. Almost.

Before Indra could throw the spear that would end it's fight, horse hooves and shouts of the Commander's name soon startled it's peaceful ministrations and sent it running back into the woods.

"Track the elk!" Indra ordered her men as Lexa growled and jabbed her knife into the trunk of the elm tree she was hiding near. "Idiots!" Indra roared at the men who approached them on horseback.

"Heda!" they called, ignoring Indra as they strutted towards them both. "You must come back to camp, _it is Hedatu_…" one of the men explained breathlessly, having raced all the way from their camp to find her.

Lexa didn't need to hear anymore, she already knew. Clarke was due any day now and it didn't take more than a second for her to put two and two together.

Lexa was the epitome of control and strength, she exuded the spirit of leadership. But in that very moment she was a scared babe clinging to it's mother's apron strings, staring into an abyss that she couldn't see the bottom of; she wondered whether this was how parenthood would feel for the rest of her life, she hoped she would exude the same strength and poise as a mother as she did a leader.

But she couldn't be sure till she swallowed her fears and jumped into the abyss.

…

"I came as quickly as I heard." Lexa said with panicked urgency, storming through the tent with wild eyes.

"I know, it's fine." Clarke forced a smile, trying desperately to hide any flicker of nervousness that lay in the contours of her expression as her mother finished taking her blood pressure.

"Clarke are you sure this is still what you want? You know how dangerous this could be." Abby tried to reason with her, perhaps as both her doctor and mother.

"Yes," Clarke swallowed, "It's what we _both_ want."

"I'll leave you both." Abby nodded, stopping at Lexa's side before she made it out the tent. "-If anything happens to my daughter Lexa..."

"I know," Lexa reassured her mother in law, "I will not let harm come to either of them."

Abby gave her a forced hug, it wasn't the warm and excited kind expectant grandmothers normally gave on this occasion, it wasn't a hug that Lexa returned, her body stiff and her hands unknowing of what to do in such an event. But it was something, and something was better than nothing. It was a promise between them that their priorities were the same; Clarke and the baby came first.

…

"How is the pain?" Lexa asked, pressing the cloth to Clarke's forehead as she grunted with the contraction, rolling with its waves and praying they wouldn't crash and drag her out to sea like an undercurrent beneath the ocean.

"Painful," Clarke winced between gritted teeth.

"When I was younger, before I was Heda, I was riding over the ridges on patrol as Anya's second during the winter and my horse buckled, I fell into a rock crevice…" Lexa began to describe, rinsing the cloth and gently rubbing it over Clarke's shoulders and neck.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Clarke asked with confused eyes.

"Patience, I'm getting there." Lexa said softly, quirking her lip into a smile. "My leg was broken and I was too far down for Anya to assist me, I was alone, in pain, and blue with the cold, wedged between two rocks." she told Clarke the story, gently stroking her wife's skin. "But Anya didn't leave me, she sat by the lip all day and night, ordering me out of the crevice, she swore that she would pull me out by a noose if I didn't crawl my way back up to her, so eventually I forced myself to climb, my limbs burned and I could feel the broken bones grinding against one another with each inch I climbed closer to the sunlight, and in those last few feet it felt as if all of Hell was trying to drag me back down, but I didn't give up. I chose to look agony in the eye and say _no_, _ai gonplei ste no odon_." Lexa breathed, lifting her eyes to look at Clarke's face. "This is the day you must come face to face with your pain and say _no, my fight is not over_, and every inch higher you climb out of the pit, when it feels like the heats of Hell are licking at your feet and you want to give up, know that our babe waits for you at the end and I will be here every inch of your ascent."

"Or else you'll pull me out with a noose?" Clarke cocked an eyebrow, enjoying a moment of relief as the contraction passed.

"Perhaps mine and Anya's methods differ…" Lexa acquiesced, repulsed and revolted at the idea of threatening such a thing against her _Skai-princesa_.

Clarke threw her head back against the pillows, a guttural sob escaping her lips that made the commander's blood run cold to listen to such a heartbreaking sound. She wanted to curl up and let her body shut down, the tight agonising cramps in her stomach too much as she felt the progress. _Agonising, back breaking, sob inducing_ progress.

"If you want pain relief, I will bring you ever skai-fisa and healer this side of the mountains." Lexa promised, pressing kisses against Clarke's palm as if she was sucking pain out of her body like venom from a wound.

"No," Clarke replied, her face clenched. "_Ai gonplei ste no odon_."

…

"I am here," Lexa reassured her, sitting behind her wife in their bed, placing languid kisses against her shoulder as she tried not to focus too much on the pained noises escaping Clarke's lips. "You are close." she promised, allowing her wife to squeeze her hands until the bones felt like they would burst and pop from the skin.

"What was the end of the story?" Clarke asked, her body decimated and exhausted from the ascent out of her own void.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Anya-" Clarke gasped through another contraction, eager for her wife to whisk her away to a different world with words carved from memories that felt like a lifetime ago.

Lexa thought back on the memories, her lips curled with purpose. "She pulled me out of the crevice," she remembered, wiping Clarke's brow with the cloth as she leaned backwards into the warrior's chest. "The horses had ran back into the woods and I could taste the salt and iron of blood on my lips, night had already fallen and wolves were howling in the distance, growling and snarling. There was no way for me to make the trek back to camp; I told Anya to end my fight with her blade." she said before a chosen pause, deep in thought.

"What happened?" Clarke asked between gasping breaths, baring down once again, suppressing the sob that bubbled in her chest.

"She refused, said that my spirit would one day lead our people, that I would look back on this day as the moment I chose to fight and _live_. She spent a day dragging me back to camp, carrying me down jagged hills and tending to my wounds. By the time we made it back, she was as close to death as I, if not closer." Lexa answered, her calloused hand pulling Clarke's shin backwards towards her body as her wife continued to push.

"It was in my seventeenth summer I was chosen as Heda, Anya came to my tent the night before I was to ride to Tondc and she gave me her blade, the very one I asked her to end my fight with. She asked that I would spare a thought for her whenever I used it." Lexa mused, running her thumb over the hunting knife attached dutifully to her thigh.

"Lexa I think it's time." Clarke hissed through the burning pain.

…

Lexa didn't smile freely, to smile was to betray one's thoughts, to show the enemy a glimpse of your soul, to whisper in unspoken words _look, I feel._

Lexa scowled and growled and sometimes she howled during the ardour of love but she didn't smile freely. Her smiles were reserved for one girl in particular, a girl like none that had came before; a girl who fell from the sky and became the woman who conquered mountains.

But then her Sky-princess did the unfathomable, she gave the warrior someone else to love, someone else to smile for. Someone who wouldn't complain about her unwavering need to protect them in a way only she could, well, not for the first few years at least.

She was born on a pinched wailing cry that mingled and danced with Clarke's own howls as she brought her into the world, right in to Lexa's hands. She wrapped her daughter in the softest cloths known to man and wiped her little scrunched face clean with it's material, sent by the clans of the west as a gift for her birth. She cut the cord with the knife given to her by the bravest warrior she'd ever known, and as promised the day before she rode to Tondc, she spared a thought for Anya and prayed to the Heavens that she may look down on this moment and feel her pride.

"A daughter," Lexa confirmed with a smile, the glass around her heart fracturing and exploding as she swelled with pride at the little girl bound in blankets in her arms. "Now I have two sky princesses."

Clarke gasped for a breath her lungs wouldn't accept as she suddenly forgot the ten hours of pain she'd just endured, unable to speak as she stretched out her arms waiting to hold their daughter.

Lexa handed her their child, watching for a moment, revelling in the contentment of seeing her wife fall in love with the tiny babe, her fingers tracing over cheeks that were forged in the burning belly of exploding stars, doting over eyes that were green like the forest tops her mother owned, lips that were rosy and pink like the sky at dusk. She was a masterpiece of impossible proportions.

"She-she's perfect," Clarke sobbed, holding the child close to her chest as Lexa joined her on the side of the bed.

Lexa couldn't help but feel panic in her gut, it was a new feeling, the sense of dread that came with imagining her tiny babe even a minute older than what she was at this very moment. Her tiny babe without yet a name.

"_Anya,_" Clarke whispered, glancing in Lexa's eyes as she tried the name on, seeing how it felt on her tongue. "Does she look like an Anya to you?"

Lexa shook her head furiously, her body tensing at the very idea.

"No." Lexa quickly declared, fighting the urge to let her chest heave at the very thought. "I won't name my daughter after the dead, she will not be named for the grave." Lexa paused, deep in thought. "She needs something strong and fitting, a name the world will bow to."

"She's barely ten minutes old, who's to say she'll rule over anything? What if she just wants to be a healer or a story-teller?" Clarke mused, staring into her baby's eyes as she hushed her cries into mews, like she'd been practicing all her life for this moment. She wondered how it was possible for this tiny thing to have so many of Lexa's features, she loved each and every one of them.

"I don't see why she can't be a healer or a story-teller and still be great enough for the world to bow before her..." Lexa countered.

Somewhere deep in Lexa's gut she watched Clarke nurse their babe to her chest and she knew they were wrong, simply saying things to comfort themselves at the idea of their impossibly tiny daughter being forced to wage wars or conquer mountains as her mothers once did. As much as it ached to imagine her daughter too big to hold in her hands, she knew the woman she would become would be greater than her or Clarke combined, a woman forged from stars and dirt, the woman who would unite all of the clans and lead them to conquer new worlds. _She knew_.

…

Lexa pushed past the curtain of their tent, her chest puffed out with pride as she carried in a tiny pile of clothes in her hand. Clothes for the ceremony later when their daughter would be presented to their family and the clans.

"I spoke to your mother," Lexa said, placing the tiny clothes on the table as Clarke struggled with the cloth diaper on their sleeping babe. "Here, let me." she smiled softly, her fingers pinning the cloth whilst Clarke rubbed sleep out of her eyes and yawned, it had been a long night for all of them, neither mother wanting to sleep or waste a second not watching over their young. They were bound by tradition not to allow anyone to see their daughter until she had a name, but that didn't stop Lexa holding their babe tight to her chest and peaking out of the tent at dawn so she could share the first sunrise of her life with her.

"What did my mom say?" Clarke perked up, standing up on her tip toes to kiss the top of Lexa's forehead as their child lay sleeping on the bed.

"She asked of you and the babe."

"What did you tell her?"

"That other than you, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life, that she has your lips and my mother's eyes," Lexa sighed, the gentleness of her words almost unnerving. "I said you were doing well too."

"That's a lie, I've never been so exhausted in my life and we've only been parents for twelve hours." Clarke frowned.

"Then sleep. I'm aware it may be a shock to you, but I'm capable of taking care of our babe for a few hours." Lexa teased, "What's the worst I could do?"

"I don't know but I'm sure you would think of something for me to worry over," Clarke mused, "Besides we need to think of a name."

"I have thought of plenty of names."

"We're not calling our daughter Thor."

"Nor are we naming her Daisy." Lexa scowled as if there was a sour taste in her mouth, glancing at the tattered baby name book Abby had troubled them with, for some reason Clarke wanted to name her after a flower and the warrior found the idea abhorrent.

"If it was up to you we would call her something frightening, something battle related, like Spear, or I don't know, Arrow!" Clarke exasperatedly sighed, staring down at her daughter who slept peacefully, clearly unconcerned about the predicament of her name.

A light bulb went off in the commander's head, the name finally coming to her off the back of her wife's mockery, _how fitting_, she thought.

"That's it." Lexa smirked.

"We're not calling the baby Spear-"

"No," Lexa shook her head, "_Isabeau_." she pronounced, the words flowing off her tongue like silk.

"Isabeau…" Clarke tried, a smile decorating her lips as the name bounced around her heart and settled in it's home.

"Bo for short, a name her people will chant." Lexa grinned, picking up her sleeping child and holding her to her chest before sitting down on her throne. "One day, _little Bo_, this seat will belong to you." she smiled.

"Stop putting ideas in her head…" Clarke complained tiredly, yawning with closed eyes as she drifted to sleep, clearly satisfied enough with their chosen name to finally let rest come for her before the week of feasts and celebrations begin across the clans they would tour with their newborn in the coming days.

Lexa waited until Clarke was deeper in her state of rest, little snores escaping both of her Skai-princesas lips before she finally relaxed slightly, enjoying the luxury of silence.

"_Little Bo of the Woodsclan, my life will be spent trying to put ideas in your head. Great ones, ones bigger than you can fathom. One day you will unite the clans of the world and the history books will call you the great Commander, however we cannot begin to talk about your plans and strategies until you are dressed as a Commander should be dressed._" Lexa mused quietly in Trigedasleng, kissing her sleeping baby gently on her little crown of dark hair, she carried her to the table with stealth and prowess, the child not stirring once.

She quickly freed her child from the light pink baby-grow, quickly deciding she would send Indra far into to the woods to burn it, maybe even summon a holy man to cleanse the abhorrent colour from her daughter's spirit. "_This is far more fitting if you are to be Queen of the Wild Things_." Lexa talked quietly in her mother-tongue, slipping the sleeping child into a fluffy baby-suit, cream with brown buttons down the center, warm and cosy for the sleeping babe. Little leather booties for her impossibly tiny feet and finally, a wolf pelt cloak to swaddle and blanket her in. "There," Lexa smiled.

She picked up her sleeping daughter, bouncing her gently as she wondered whether she'd ever be able to put this tiny little thing down. She yawned but shrove off the tiredness that came for her, enjoying the peace and quiet that came with a resting wife and baby, until Isabeau's face scrunched up again as she roused from her slumber, growing red in the cheeks as she wailed and absently moved her little hands. "_Little Bo, yu gonplei ste begon._" Lexa whispered as she hushed and rocked her babe.


	2. Wild Things in The Water

**AN: Just a short little drabble to get you through!**

The sun was unforgiving and the water was warm, Summer had stayed late into the Autumn and Lexa would be lying if she said she wasn't glad of it, it gave her more time for moments like this, carefree evenings spent by the lake watching her Sky Princesses.

"Wave to Mama..." Clarke urged their baby as she waded through the shallow depths of the lake with the child. "Say _hi Mama_…"

Lexa sat on the rocks, sharpening her blade, watching them both with a tight smile as their daughter squealed incessantly whilst Clarke bounced her in the water. Her tight smirk turned into a grin as Clarke moved the baby's hand in a little waving motion at the Commander. Chubby little arms, arms that neither mother ever wanted to know the weight of responsibility.

Lexa stood on the rocks, quickly pulling her armour and clothes off of her body until she stood only in her underwear and undershirt, the sun beating down on her muscular tanned physique before she dove effortlessly into the water with almost no resistance.

"Where did Mama go?" Clarke asked their three month old baby, her arm wrapped around Bo as they bobbed in the water waiting for Lexa to resurface.

Lexa swam the length between the rocks and Bo silently under the water, not so much as a ripple giving away her proximity before bursting through the surface and splashing them both lightly.

"There she is..." Clarke laughed, handing Lexa their wriggling daughter.

Lexa smiled, the smile she reserved for those she would die protecting. Her war make-up dripped down her face as the water melted it away, revealing just how youthful her eyes really were. Sinewy tanned hands wrapped around Bo's protruding tummy as Lexa lifted her out of the water and into the sky, gently plopping her back down again with a splash that left her little pink lips open wide with delight and wonderment, lips that were a perfect replica of Clarke's own.

"Be careful with her, she's not made of steel." Clarke said, sitting in the shallows of the cool water as she took a moment to enjoy the sight before her. It wasn't often that she had these moments, the quiet and private ones that she would carefully etch into her mind's eye. She knew one day when Lexa was too old to lead battles or wars anymore, this would be the one of the moments she'd recall to her wife with fondness, the moments in which they were still young and in their prime, a wriggling baby in one hand and a sword in the other.

"She's not made of steel," Lexa agreed with a slight nod, her green eyes flitting back down to the babe in her arms whose fingers gently tugged on the Commander's dark brown braids with intrigue. "She's of sky and dirt, forged in the belly of burning stars and the peaks of mountain tops that fell under her mother's wrath…"

"Sometimes I think you were born to be a storyteller." Clarke laughed, kicking her toes through the silt beneath the ripples of the lake.

"Perhaps in another life." Lexa swallowed, tightening her jaw again.

"Perhaps." Clarke nodded with a frown.

Lexa was stoic and disciplined, indomitable and unwavering, she was robbed of normalcy and youth the day she took her place watching over her lands and people. She will never be the mother who will kiss away Bo's bangs or bruises, or hold her and promise how better life will get after her first heartbreak, nor will she ever blow raspberries on Isabeau's tummy until she cries with laughter.

Lexa was robbed of a normal life, and so was Clarke, but none of that mattered. Bo would have Mommy to kiss away her cuts and grazes, to blow raspberries on her belly until her chest heaves with giggles, to hold her hand on the first day of school; and she'd have Mama to slay the monsters in her nightmares with the sword that claimed the heads of their enemies, to teach her how to fight and lead and _win_, to be great on whatever path life would lead her down. She'd have Mama to teach her how to prosper, not just survive. God knows she would have her Mama to beat the man who breaks her heart, and Mommy to fix it back together again afterwards. Clarke and Lexa had no sense of normalcy, but their daughter would know the privilege.

Clarke found herself lost in these thoughts for a moment, she was quickly found by the screeching cries of their daughter.

"Take the child." Lexa said softly, offering their screaming baby forward as her body began to stiffen at the sound.

Clarke rolled her eyes and took Bo in her arms, rocking their daughter against her chest, pressing kisses and hums against her dark brown crown of hair. "You know, you're really going to have to get over this fear soon…" Clarke sighed, just loud enough for the Commander to hear over their daughter's wails.

"You think I fear the cries of my babe?" Lexa challenged with a narrowed stare, "She cries for milk, there is little I can do."

"Everytime Lexa."

"I do not understand the point you're trying to ma-"

"Everytime she cries, you pass her back to me," Clarke stood from the shallow depths of the water, bouncing their crying baby. "_Everytime_." she repeated, walking back into the shore.

"You calm her." Lexa tried to explain, following the blonde. "I think I anger her more when she is upset." she sighed.

"Take her." Clarke commanded, turning to face Lexa with their screaming daughter. "I'll tell you if you're doing something to make her cry."

Lexa stood straight, lifting her chin high in defiance for a moment before another whimpering sob ripped from their daughter's chest, the sound forced her to concede and grab her child.

"Be Mama, _make it better_..." Clarke urged her, watching on.

Lexa stared at her daughter and smiled, she loved Bo like this, loud and angry just like her mother the first time they met. Lexa bounced the child gently in her toned arms, thinking over her war strategy as their daughter continued to sob, her impossibly tiny fingers pressing against Lexa's tattooed bicep.

"So you like my _tatau_, Little Bo?" Lexa murmured, glancing down to the intricate lines decorating her forearm. "I received it my first day as a second, other than the day you were born that was my proudest day…" the Commander smiled, rocking her daughter in her arms. "One day I will draw yours as my mother once drew mine, my mother would have adored you Isabeau. She was far better at these things than me, her heart was kinder, bigger. Better equipped for loving wild things like us." Lexa explained with a smile at the memory of her nomon, rocking the child.

Bo quietened down, her cheeks still red and angry from her tears. Her little fist exploring her mouth as she kicked her little feet and flexed her toes.

"Well if you wanted to hear stories, you only had to ask." Lexa swallowed, glancing her eyes away as she wondered what tales she had in her stockpile like arrows on the battlefront.

"Let's go back home," Clarke suggested, breaking the quiet reverie as she watched on her warriors. "Little Heda needs a feed and a nap."she explained, stepping forward and closing the proximity between them.

"I see you've came around to Little Heda?" Lexa asked with the quiver of a smirk on her lips, the first time Clarke heard Octavia call her daughter Little Heda she practically snatched the child from her arms.

"It's cute."

"It's _honest_." Lexa mused.


	3. The Farmer and The Artist

The smell of birch smoke lingered and danced in the midnight air.

The fire still smouldered and crackled before it died completely, the camp slept in their huts and tents under the cloak of the sharp and cool night sky, but Lexa was up and awake, her boots thudding the ground as she marched up the hill to the watchpost with Bo in one arm, eyes open and wrapped in hides to keep away the night chill, and a book in the other, a book about wild things in jungles far away from these lands, jungles her daughter would one day own.

Octavia narrowed her stare as she peaked out of the watchpost to catch a glimpse of who the footsteps belonged to. "Lexa?" she whispered to the shadowy figure below.

"Heda will do fine," Lexa growled, her voice cutting through the silent air as she climbed the ladder effortlessly, one armed, the other holding Bo tightly to her chest. "Little Heda will not sleep." she sighed, clambering up to sit in the crows nest.

Octavia had never seen the commander like this, her hair in waves that almost looked tame, her skin clear and unmarred from the dirt of the day, free of her armour and paint. If it wasn't for the defined muscle and expert balance as she ascended the ladder in her hole riddled t-shirt and thrown on jeans, she might be confused for just a normal, unassuming houmon amongst the camp.

"What brings you up here to my neck of the woods?" she asked, leaning into the commander's space to coo over her god-daughter who lay awake in her mother's arms, cooing and babbling the way only a sky woman can. "Are you ready to be a second already?" the sky-warrior said in a voice that was thick and sweet, a voice Lexa wished she too could possess.

"Apparently so," Lexa answered with a smile at her daughter, placing the book down on the wooden floor so she could grab the canteen filled with sweet honey tea. "She cries when I lay her to rest, Clarke spends the night worrying more than she should and then I have two sleepless sky-princesses, I thought it best to take her on an adventure before she woke her mother."

"Wait, Clarke doesn't know you're up here?" Octavia asked with cautious eyes.

"No," Lexa said sternly, "Is that a problem?"

"I just- I don't think she'll take it well if she finds out you carried Isabeau up the highest ladder in the camp to a rickety old box in the sky." Octavia thought aloud, glancing over the fence towards the Commander's tent where she was thankful not to see an angry blonde figure in a blue jacket cutting a path towards them.

"It would appear to be in both our interests to make sure Clarke doesn't know of this adventure, would it not?"

"Relax, I'll keep quiet." Octavia answered, sitting back down on the floor.

Lexa paused for a moment, smoothing the short dark hair that peaked over the edge of the bear hide she'd swaddled the baby in. "-Besides, her mother once came from a rickety box in the sky, as did you if memory serves me well."

"I did." Octavia agreed, sharpening her blade. She may of came from the stars, but the ground was her home, the ground was where she discovered who she was and who she was meant to be. The ground, not Jaha or Kane, gave her the blessed freedom she dreamt about in the tiny crawl-space she'd called home for the first sixteen years of her life. "Have you tried telling her a story?" Octavia noted as her gaze landed on the leather book near Lexa's foot.

"Clarke tells me my stories aren't good for her ears."

"What stories would they be Heda?"

"Wars and battles, mainly." she replied, "I don't know many other stories, not stories that she would care for."

Octavia sharpened her blade a little more vigorously before accepting the honey tea offered forward to her by the commander, "Yeah well, sometimes we just have to make do with the stories were born into." she said, taking a sip from the canteen.

"Wise words." Lexa agreed, crossing her legs as their knees lay parallel. "I think my daughter has a liking for stories from the stars, tell us yours."

"Heda, if Clarke thinks your stories are bad for her ears, she'll think mine are awful." she almost wanted to laugh, _almost_.

"-Lexa." the young commander corrected her, sighing as the breeze moved across her skin and thick dark hair. "You may call me Lexa up here."

"What changed your mind?"

"It just seems fitting I suppose," she mused. "Down there on the ground we have our roles to play, our responsibilities to our people. In this box I am a mother and you are a friend, I can see why my wife favours the sky, there's less responsibility up here."

Octavia nodded at the sentiment, taking another sip of the honey tea before passing the canteen back to the Commander, exhaling a breath that immediately turned to mist. "Can I hold?" she asked gently, offering her hands forward towards the child.

Lexa tensed her jaw, she didn't like the way Clarke allowed others to handle their baby, to feel her precious weight in their arms, It made her shoulders stiff, stiff with worry and sometimes jealousy, but maybe a fresh set of arms to nest in for a little while was what the littlest heda needed to finally drift to sleep.

The commander didn't speak, she nodded her head tightly, letting the sky-warrior hold her babe.

"Hei Hedatu," Octavia whispered in trigedasleng, smiling down at the bundled fur, tracing a finger over round, bonny pink cheeks.

Lexa laughed, it was the first time Octavia ever heard such noise come from the commander's chest, if it wasn't for the lazy smile on her face that she could barely make out under the flickers of the torch she'd wonder if she made it up in her mind. "Clarke still doesn't know Bo was the Hedatu all along, I do not have the heart to tell her." the older heda scratched her head.

"But Indra doesn't call her Hedatu anymore?" Octavia furrowed her brow in confusion, rocking her god-daughter, glancing into the big green eyes that seemed too impossibly soft and innocent to be molded after Lexa's own.

"I suppose we don't see the things we don't wish to see."

Octavia quirked her lips, "I don't understand?"

"Less to do with Clarke wanting to be Heda, more to do with her not wanting Bo to have her path chosen for her." she sighed, sipping the tea.

"I can dig that." the sky-warrior nodded, rocking the tiny thing in her arms. "I wish I had two badass moms, kid." she whispered at the child, "One day you'll realise just how many people care about you, it's the greatest gift, don't waste it." she smoothed the pelt around her impossibly little body, explaining sentiments to ears that were too young to understand.

"What of your parents?" Lexa asked, prying, not that she would admit she was genuinely intrigued.

Octavia paused for a moment, the air around them silent and waiting. "Dead." she confirmed, "I just had Bellamy when I came to the surface, that and a reputation."

Neither woman knew what to say, it was no secret amongst the warriors that Lexa's parents were cut down when she was just a babe herself. It was the peculiarly comforting silence of two orphans, a pondering silence only they could appreciate.

"-Isabeau, have I ever told you of the first day I saw the Earth from the sky?" Octavia mused with that thick and gooey voice, placing a kiss on sleepy eyelids.

She took a sip of the honey tea and looked up to the stars with a smile, on that smile, she hoped her mother might look down upon her and see that she found a good life in the end, a life she could be proud of. And so she told Isabeau the story, the first time she ever laid eyes on this world, how Bellamy snuck her out of the crawl-space with the masquerade ball as a cover for her disguise, the first time she'd ever left those ten by ten walls, the first time she'd ever seen anything other than metal.

Her words were big and brash, just like the grin that lit up her face as she recalled that blue giant outside the window.

The world was impossibly big from up there, sometimes she forgot just how big until she remembered that first glimpse of Earth; blue and green offset by the neverending black background, the spatter of a thousand stars all burning away in different words and galaxies. An entire universe of things to explore and colours to memorise and all she'd known was a ten by ten box. The world was too beautiful to ever go back to a life of metal and grey, too intriguing to ever stop wondering what was down there since the second she saw it.

Lexa was entranced by her words, by her own curiosity of this life her wife came from. It almost saddened her when Octavia finished recounting the memory.

"Here you go," Octavia smiled, interrupting her thoughts, offering her daughter back. "One sleeping Hedatu."

The commander was grateful, enough so that she offered a short nod in Octavia's direction, she smiled down at her now-sleeping babe, peacefully dreaming of thousands of stars burning away in the night sky no doubt.

"What happened after you saw the world?" Lexa asked, looking up at her curiously.

"They killed my mother and sent me to prison." Octavia frowned, glancing up at the night sky once again. "Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, hot and sweaty, convinced I'm in that prison cell and this is all a dream. I think Clarke does to, sometimes we catch each other outside of our tents just staring up at the sky late at night. Just to make sure we're not still up there in those tiny little boxes."

"Clarke was a prisoner?" the Commander asked with a familiarly tense expression, careful not to jostle the baby as she leaned in closer to the conversation.

"Probably best you talk to her about it Lexa, sometimes all we have is the stories we're born into right?"

The commander gruffly sighed, moving to her feet with prowess that didn't disturb the baby. "I think it's time to rest, there are not enough hours between now and the hunt."

"Well, glad to be of service." Octavia hummed.

"Octavia?" Lexa glanced up one last time as she began her careful descent back down the ladder.

"Lexa?"

"This never happened." she tightened her jaw, returning back to the strict and stiff bones that came with the Heda's pauldron.

Octavia smiled, tonight would be a story for far away nights to come, the night the midnight moon turned the ruthless and roaring Heda back into a girl for just an hour, a girl in a box high in the sky with her baby in one arm and a battered canteen of honey tea in the other, listening to tales of how the stars burned light into every corner of the darkness.

"Until the next sleepless night, Commander." she nodded.

"Until then."

…

Clarke paced back and forth around their tent, muttering words she would file away in a corner of her brain to shout at Lexa come the morning sun.

1:01 AM and her brooding commander and more importantly, their baby, we're away from her sights. The same fury that conquered mountains with a battered old radio and wiped away three hundred warriors on the blink of an eye bubbled deep in her chest, fury and worry and panic all brewing together.

"I see you're awake?" Lexa noted, stepping through the flaps of their tent as candles burned a soft-glow around the room, she rocked their sleeping daughter gently in tanned arms that were never supposed to know any other weight than that of a sword.

Clarke's eyes were wild with anger, pure and unadulterated, her voice shook like thunder as she tried to keep her volume low. "Where the hell have you been?" she growled, stalking behind the commander, following her to their bed where she laid Bo gently in the centre.

"We went for a walk." Lexa explained tersely, glancing over her shoulder to gauge her wife's response.

"A walk? At this time? Are you out of your mind?" she hissed.

Clarke crossed her arms, analysing her wife, checking for bramble scratches or leaves in her hair, making sure she hadn't ventured outside of the walls with their daughter. She found something infinitely more striking though, she'd never quite appreciated Lexa's ethereal beauty in the light before, she'd never really had the opportunity. Her hair wasn't scraped and braided, it was curly and free, her eyes and skin were soft and the loose, hole ridden t-shirt that hung on her shoulders with it's scooped neckline offering a glimpse of her cleavage, made her impossibly feminine. Clarke had to pull her eyes away, remind herself she was furious.

"Whenever I lay her down to sleep she cries and I didn't want you to stay up all night worrying over her, you need rest too." she frowned, stepping forward. "So we looked at the moon and counted the stars and wondered which ones you counted too when you were a small babe."

Clarke's eyes softened and her shoulders relaxed, only slightly, but enough for Lexa to know she'd won this round.

"We're talking about this in the morning Lexa." Clarke frowned, allowing her wife to push a blonde tendril of hair out of her face. They wouldn't talk about it in the morning, both of them knew so, but Lexa played along dutifully for her wife's sake.

"As you wish." she nodded carefully, moving in to kiss her lips.

Her lips were cold and Clarke felt the need and desire to warm them up, heal the chaps and cracks with her own lips, touch the soft loose curls and waves of her hair. Exist and thrive in the silence of this moment were their only duties were to each other.

"I like this look, it's _softer_." Clarke yawned.

Lexa allowed the curious fingers to play with her groomed mane for a little while, "Am I not always soft for you inside this room?" she asked curiously, the same familiar desire to know how to possess more sky in her heart, be kinder and gentler for her princesses.

Clarke chuckled, wrapping her arms around sinewy shoulders that were strong enough to throw her on all fours if they so wished. "Outside you are thunderclouds, all dark and brooding, but then you come home and sunshine burns in your eyes and smile," she kissed the corner of Lexa's mouth, grabbing one of her calloused hands, rubbing her thumbs into the heart and fate lines of her paw. "And your palm rubs my butt in the middle of the night and I'm kind of into that." she teased.

"Well, my palm is kind of into your butt." Lexa tried to flirt, she heard the way the skaikru talked to one another, the words just didn't roll off her tongue the same way.

"You don't need to be anything other than what you are," Clarke promised, laying little kisses on her jaw. "Me and this one," she pointed between herself and her daughter. "We love our thundercloud, even when her hair is loose and her skies are clear."

"You're very poetic."

"You're very hot."

She leaned in for the kiss, fingers locked behind the nape of Lexa's neck, pressing close and tight against her body. She felt the thunder rumble over her skin, fingers creeping under her bed t-shirt until calloused hands rested underneath her breasts.

Bo's cries interrupted them like a lightning strike that made them jump out of their skin.

"It's okay," Clarke reassured the defeated look on Lexa's face. "She's just hungry, babies get hungry." she smiled, she turned back to the child wailing on their bed, picking up the baby and hushing her cries with a soft tune that she hummed during these sleepless nights.

Lexa was always in awe when she watched her wife tend to her angry daughter, sooth her and calm her stress, she wondered whether Clarke got so skilled at it practicing with her thundering self.

"What did you dream of Isabeau?" Clarke hummed, rocking their baby with big blue eyes and a goofy smile, "Was it Mama slaying the dragon, or did we catch stars in little nets and skim them across ponds this time?" she asked their daughter, wondering what scenarios she played out in her little mind whilst she slept, hoping they were dreams of the stories she made up for her.

Isabeau stopped crying, her eyes looking around the room as her little feet and hands moved around curiously, three months old and Lexa swore she had more awareness of the world than some of her generals.

"-I think she's looking for her Mama." Clarke smiled over her shoulder, a smile that beckoned Lexa closer.

"Hello Isabeau." Lexa smiled over her wife's shoulder.

"That's very formal for a baby…" Clarke smirked, handing her daughter to the dressed down warrior whilst she removed her shirt, standing bare in the candlelight in just her pyjama shorts.

"I'm sorry if my voice isn't as sweet as your mother's," Lexa apologised to the baby in her arms, memorising every inch of her little face, cursing herself for not memorising it more when she was newborn. "You have every ounce of me I have to give, always know that." she hummed, rocking the baby.

"I thought love was weakness?" Clarke teased from their bed as she sat down.

"Then I am weak."

"Now who's being poetic?"

Lexa laughed a little, just enough to make the baby in her arms gurgle.

"-She has your sense of humour, apparently." Clarke rolled her eyes, plumping the pillows behind her back.

"I don't have a sense of humour," Lexa dismissed, handing her wife their wriggling daughter. "I'm thunderclouds remember." Clarke grinned as she pulled the furs up around herself and the child, her tiny head resting in the nook of her arm as she fed hungrily at her chest.

Lexa pulled her boots and jeans off, sliding under the furs and leaning against an elbow to watch over them. "I think, these are the moments I live for." she mused with a sigh. "It's very peaceful."

"Me wincing whilst your daughter eats enough to feed an army?" Clarke raised her eyebrow.

Lexa shook her head, watching contently as Bo quietly fed with closed eyes, her little hand pressed right over Clarke's heartbeat. "Still painful?" she asked with concerned eyes.

"I married a warlord, pain came with deal." Clarke shrugged, tracing her finger over her baby's dark hair before turning to press a chaste kiss against Lexa's plump lips. "She's a beautiful one though, she leaves me flowers pressed in book pages which I think goes against rule number one in the warlord manual."

"Does she now?" Lexa played along, leaning her face a little closer towards Clarke's ear. "Have you seen this _warlord_ pressing flowers in your books?"

"No, but I know it's her."

"How so?"

"She knows my favourite flower but she's allergic to them; she doesn't seem to mind, although they make her sneeze and her eyes itch when she picks them for me." Clarke smiled knowingly.

"She sounds too soft."

"She seems to wish she was softer sometimes, she forgets that if I wanted the sky way, I would have married one of my own people."

The words were simple enough, but they struck a chord deep in her heart, snapped a coil that was wound so tightly it made her feel like she couldn't breathe sometimes.

"And this warlord of yours, does she make you happy?" she asked tentatively, tucking hair behind her ear.

"So happy I forget there's a world outside of our tent sometimes."

"And she's a good mother?" Lexa asked, eyes hesitant and lips pursed with uncertainty. She wasn't one for admitting nervousness or self-doubt, but it was no secret that her thunderous ways were impossibly different to the sun and the stars and the sky.

Clarke kissed her forehead, rubbed her cheek with her palm, hid the sadness that lingered in her gaze that Lexa would doubt her mothering skills.

"She is a fantastic mother," Clarke eased her worry, pulling Lexa's hand to Bo's back whilst she fed so the commander could feel the little ticks and vibrations of her body, a body she helped make. "She watches our daughter with these worried eyes, like she's scared that one day, she might not be a baby anymore. I think she'll be our daughter's favourite mom, the one who teaches her to climb trees that I'll tell them are too tall, tame wild horses that she has no business with, too small to clamber up on their backs, but her Mama will pull her up on hers and teach her to use the reigns. I see it already, my daughter cries in the night because she knows Mama will come and get her, and they'll go on secret adventures they think I'll never find out about."

Lexa didn't speak, no words came forth, they were all dried up in the burn that ripped through her throat. Watering eyes she would never let shed a drop, not between now and eternity.

"I'm sure she loves you both more than she could ever say, Clarke." Lexa whispered against her wife's lips, pulling her sky-princesses closer into her arms.

"Do you think she loves us enough to wear her hair down more often? We think it's kind of cute." the blonde grinned, nodding down towards the sleeping baby on her chest, suckling with the occasional reflex.

"Perhaps." the commander hummed, allowing fingers to touch her curls once again. "Do you think that just for tonight, you and your warlord could be two other people? Just a farmer and an artist?"

Clarke nodded.

"I'd draw you naked, all the time, the walls would be covered from top to bottom in sketches of you." she mused with a grin.

"Well, there goes evenings in our tent playing backgammon with the neighbours." Lexa pouted, but Clarke laughed.

"What would you grow on your land?" the blonde nudged her ribs for an answer.

"Snowbells, I'm allergic to them but my wife enjoys their petals."

"It's a good job you're not a farmer, we'd starve."

"Maybe, at least when they found us you'd have flowers in your hair and charcoal under your fingernails."

"You'd have a blocked nose and hundreds of naked sketches of yourself lying around." Clarke laughed a little more, the sound was infectious, soon Lexa had joined in too with their quiet chuckling.

"On second thoughts, I think I'm glad of this life."


	4. A Wheezing Wild Thing Pt I

**AN: Your reviews give me life, keep them coming please!**

Months had passed, the winter was hard and unforgiving. Thanks to the cowardly guns and bullets the Skaikru brought back to the Earth, the same guns the Trikru and the rest of the clans detested, hunting became a less arduous task, more meat meant more skins, more skins meant less of their young, infirm and elderly lost to the cold. One less worry for the brooding commander. One less worry for the ever-hopeful sky leader.

It was between the death of winter and the birth of spring that the sickness came for their children again, the same plague that afflicted the grounders most years, a chill that couldn't be warmed, a burn that couldn't be cooled, a fire in the chest that crackled each breath like dry leaves in a forest fire, rashes that tainted and itched the skin, and sickness that could empty the stomach of the hardiest warriors.

The sickness always passed, never claiming the same victim twice, deaths were rare but when they occurred, it was always a heavy burden felt throughout the village.

This year was different, this year there was a new clan, a clan that had never suffered this plague before, a clan not of this Earth and the sickness couldn't and didn't and wouldn't distinguish between their adults and young, the afflicted adults suffered worse, their cries and moans rang out from the quarantine tent all hours of day and night, until the first began to die, the cries started to fade, funeral pyres began to burn, all in a matter of days.

Indra sent word to the clans that the sickness had come once again, the generals rode to Tondc, fever had already broken amongst the children, including Bo. Her howls and feverish cries grew with intensity, her skin was clammy and pale, her eyes hazy and not quite there, the worst was still to come, that Lexa knew.

Lexa was tense, brooding, angrier than usual. The generals picked up on it, though none were quick to comment, little could be done for those already chosen for the grave, their suffering would be ended with dignity and respect, a burden Lexa and her sword quickly agreed to bear the sole weight of. The rest, the healthy and the strong were to be banished and quarantined to Camp Jaha until the sickness had passed and they would be safe again to mix amongst the grounders. No one was to come or go, not even Chancellor Griffin. They were to return to Jaha that night, no exceptions.

Naturally, Clarke refused.

….

The sun was beginning to set, rags she'd used to mop up the sweat from Bo's little body littered the war table, milk that was briefly stomach contents stained her top, she ran out of ideas to soothe her daughter hours ago, but that didn't mean she'd go willingly.

"I'm not leaving her." Clarke barked, rocking the screaming child to her chest and humming against her dark hair, dark hair that was stuck to her sticky brow, her little cries hoarse yet loud, chest burning and eyes wet.

"You must." Lexa demanded once again, throwing clothes into a satchel for her wife. "Children suffer the sickness, it is the way of the world." she tried to explain, taking a step towards them both. "I suffered the sickness when I was young, as do all of our people, but you are not young Clarke nor are you of the ground and what Bo feels, you will feel a thousand times worse."

"If she gets sick then I get sick." Clarke dismissed the logic, refusing to acknowledge Lexa's outstretched arms, quietly and politely requesting their daughter. Lexa was gentle and careful with her sky-princesses, because she was so impossibly Lexa and so impossibly in love with the both of them. However this wasn't Lexa, Clarke knew she was going back and forth with the Commander, the wolf, the hunter, the part of her wife that was necessary to make brute and totalitarian decisions for the greater good. A trait that Clarke could never quite learn or possess, although she wasn't eager to try.

She'd watched and learned this side of Lexa well enough to know that her next move for their daughter wouldn't be gentle or polite, however she was a mother first and a rational human being second, and Lexa had watched and learned that side of Clarke well enough to know that any move for their child would be most likely met with the same ferocity as a lion, normally calm and wise and steady, charging and roaring to protect her young.

They paused, watched each other, a standoff at dusk underway. Lexa caught a glimpse of Clarke's gun, holstered safely near their bed, away from her immediate reach, she was thankful for that.

The commander held the satchel packed with Clarke's necessities and Clarke held their swaddled daughter, sick and hurting and too young to understand what was going on.

"Do you trust me, Clarke?" Lexa asked with the softest voice she could muster, taking a step closer.

"No, not with this."

"What if you catch this sickness? Will Bo thank you for your stubbornness if she must grow up without her mother?" she inflicted each word, desperately trying to make her impossible woman understand.

"I'm a healer, I won't die." Clarke bit, leaning over the bundle in her arms protectively, her body still tight and rigid. "I can fix this just give me some time."

"You do not know that, you've never encountered this sickness before!" Lexa slammed her hand against the table.

"Neither has she!" Clarke growled loudly, her eyes worried and her voice breaking. "She's just a baby and she's half sky too, if I'm not here who's going to make this better Lexa?"

"I will," Lexa took another step forward, "I am her mother too." she removed her war pauldron and her coat, wiping her dirty hands on her thin t-shirt before offering them forward again for the child. "You must understand, I won't rest until she rests and I won't eat until she eats." she quietly promised.

"You rock her too hard, you need to be more gentle with her whilst her stomach is upset…" Clarke sighed and glanced down, her posture relaxing slightly, the tight hold on her daughter loosening.

"I will rock her so gently she'll think I'm made of silk." she whispered, the lock of her jaw loosening, her shoulders deflating, her stance softer.

"She likes it when you tickle her back, it helps when she won't sleep."

"I know, I discovered this tactic." Lexa half smiled, rubbing and soothing Clarke's arm patiently.

"I can't just leave." Clarke doubted herself, shaking her head, trying to snap out of the idea.

"I will send word to you every day on her condition until your return."

"What about when she needs feeding?"

"The milk is too heavy for her stomach right now, that's why it doesn't stay there for long." Lexa explained, brushing her fingertips over the small sweating brow that had grown red with frustration. "There is an old remedy our people use, a mixture of fruits and herbs brewed into a broth. I will try her belly with this, when she is stronger, you can send bottles back when my riders bring you news."

It was rare Clarke cried, the ground had toughened her heart and roughened her skin. However for her daughter she made an exception. Thick tears swelling at the corners of her worried gaze.

"If anything happens to her Lexa-"

"I know." the commander nodded, swallowing, breathing through her nose.

Clarke handed the angry wriggling child into stretched arms, Lexa bounced her and hushed her and mothered her in a way Clarke wasn't used too. As if she was trying to prove that she too had learned how to possess more sky in her heart, more stars in her veins, more capable of the gentle ways Clarke had so graciously tutored her in.

"We will be okay." Lexa promised, holding the bundles of cloth close to her chest.

Clarke's arms felt useless, her heart felt emptier.

"Honey we have to go," Abby called through the tent flaps, her eyes a mirror of Clarke's own, sad and empathetic. "We will be back before the end of the week." she tried.

"How did you do it?" Clarke asked, bitterly.

"Do what?"

She turned, her eyes angry and wild and bitter that she must leave her tiniest wild thing if only for a week. "How did you let me get on that drop ship? How did you let me out of your sights?" she shook her head.

"To save you, so that we might have better days, so that you might have a chance, for the greater good, at least that's what I tell myself. The truth is I have no idea, it wasn't easy but it was a choice I'd make again."

Abby opened her arms and Clarke softened, her legs carrying her into her mother's embrace, hands smoothing down her light blonde hair and hushing away the burn in her chest. "I love you both." Clarke turned, finding green eyes that bore the entire weight of the world.

"We know." Lexa nodded, rocking their daughter. "I will tell her stories every night so she doesn't grow restless of your absence, the same cannot be said for me." she swallowed, her posture still tight.

"You say the sweetest things." Clarke rolled her eyes, wiping a tear. Any chance of a kiss goodbye was gone the moment Abby stepped into their quarters.

The sound of movement outside, footsteps, voices and the crank of the gates told them it was time to go.

"Do not let anything happen to her."

"Wild things are indestructible, Clarke."

…

True to her word Lexa refused to sleep until slumber came for her little heda, she sat patiently watching the wheezing wild thing in their bed whilst sharpening her blade, it reminded her of her days as a second, watching guard post with only the crunch of leaves to keep her company. The night breeze that came through the tent seemed to sooth Bo's fever and help her chest, however it did nothing to remedy the pain in her mother's heart knowing Clarke would be no doubt pacing around Camp Jaha restlessly until news arrived.

"Isabeau." Lexa sighed, lying down next to her now whimpering child, her head resting against her elbow whilst she ran a damp cloth over feverish clammy skin, Bo's eyes danced around the room, looking for Clarke no doubt. "I miss her too." she agreed, her jaw working back and forth.

Bo's eyes found Lexa's, they were unfocused and sore, the greens she borrowed from the forest tops bleeding into the red and pink that had grown where white once was.

"Your eyes are sore." Lexa tilted her head, muttering in Trigedasleng. She grabbed the paste in the pestle and mortar she'd been working on from the war table, in another life she would have made an excellent healer, roots and camomile leaves blended into a paste her own mother taught her to make. "Your mom is an excellent healer Bo, she just hasn't seen enough of this world to know all of it's cures, yet." she smiled, dabbing the paste onto her fingers.

She dabbed it onto sore and heavy eyelids, above red and angry cheeks, underneath snivelling nostrils and over angry red rashes, methodical and gentle, lighter than she ever knew how to be.

Bo mumbled and detested in her own made up language that all babies possess, elongated vowels and a heavy stare. Lexa always waited patiently and nodded along thoughtfully when the child babbled, listening to her daughter's ideas and opinions.

"You make an excellent third." Lexa said with approval, a corner of her lips curling into a smile as the paste sat thick over Bo's eyes and cheeks like grey warpaint, warning the sickness of the brutality it was about to meet, the heart that would not skip a beat until her little bones were done ridding her of it's wrath.

The commander held her little third's chin and examined her work a little closer in silence for a moment, it wasn't uncomfortable. Lexa found most children uncomfortable to be around, she found them slightly intimidating, not that she would admit that. Warlords and their sentinels were not made for children, and visa versa. She however was made for Bo, and Bo was made from her. It levelled the battlefield they would fight their biggest wars on.

"I dream of the day I will teach you to wear my war paint Bo," she mused with a smile, rubbing the residual paste between her finger and thumb. "-You'll get it wrong to begin with, I did when my mother showed me. There's an art to it, not as beautiful as the drawings and paintings your mother pours over, but art none the less."

As if on cue, tiny fingers reached out and pressed against her cheek, the tips smearing the paint she'd laid on heavy and thick that morning above her cheeks and under her brow, Lexa imagined it was undertaken with fond approval at her previous notion.

"You're a quick learner," she quirked her brow, grabbing the tiny palm to examine the dark paint. She sighed, lifted the cloth-diapered and sweating child from the bed and laid her over her forearm, belly down, legs and arms dangling over the sides. "but now we must rest, your mother will end my fight if she knows we talked until this hour."

With that she traced her fingers over Bo's back, her palms and digits were calloused from the handles of swords and the steel of blades, undeserving of ever feeling skin so soft beneath her touch, calloused from the evils of the world outside of their tent, however the child didn't mind, she couldn't care less. That was the beauty of children, Lexa thought. Bo rarely complained or cried or thought too much on the little details, the mark of a true warrior; a virtue she hoped she may never lose.

The body flopping over her arm was hot and heaving, wheezing and hissing with each breath, although the ointment cooled her eyes and rash. She was still too exhausted to wriggle like she normally did, yip or holler or scream, nothing but hazy eyes peeking up through damp dark brown locks at her mother. She waited patiently, like Mama; the commander, the tense and brooding thundercloud might know how to make it all better.

"Your mother would know what to do, what to say." she quietly admitted, "She speaks a language to you that I'm not fluent in," she traced her fingers over the ridges of her spine. "but I am dirt and your mother is sky, she will be the stars and sun of your life and I will be the moss and stone."

The wheezing and hissing diluted into a gentle rasp as her babe drifted in and out of sleep, her eyelids growing heavier.

"You will have my hair," Lexa smirked, ran her hand over the dark curls. "thick and wild and angry, your mother will fight with you to clean it, as my mother did with me. I don't think wild things are born to have their manes brushed and pulled into ribbon like the _skai-goufas_. Your mother and I will disagree on this I'm sure."

With regular breaths and a body as still as the river at dawn, Lexa knew she'd hushed their daughter to sleep. Although she missed the silence and peace of night, the best advisor to her most serious of troubles. Tonight would not be a night for sleeping, she kept the damp cloth pressed to the baby's back and watched over her as she had done all of the hours since Clarke left.

She would not sleep until both her sky-princesses slept, and she could practically hear Clarke howling at the moon all the way from Jaha.

Tonight would be a night for different matters, self indulgent ones. One day, when she stands at Bo's wedding with all of the clans listening and waiting on her every word, she will tell her daughter and her people of the night she sat awake with the tiny broken thing in her arms who wouldn't sleep and dreamt up ideas of the woman she'd become; brave and strong, kind and gentle, cunning and smart, the greatest heda who will ever walk the Earth.

If there was one thing Commander Lexa could always be right of, it was that she was never wrong.


	5. Sword vs The Pen

It was during Bo's fourth Summer that their cultures and upbringings clashed. Lexa was dismissive of the books and chalk Clarke so eagerly wanted their daughter to make habit of, she found the idea of Bo's education being more akin to the ground preferred. An education she herself would tutor their daughter in. The names of plants, the skill of tracking, the tongues of neighbouring clans, the sway of trees as the parchment they would practice skills that strung together like cursive and the soft clay beneath their feet the ink they would write with.

The matter of their daughter's education was still in negotiations, both parties forced into stalemate for the time being.

"If you think for a second that you're taking my four year old daughter off into the forest—"

"She is always your daughter when we quarrel, never ours." Lexa growled. It was a warning; a rumble in her chest that told Clarke to back away from the praecipe she was dancing carelessly next to. "Besides, she is five in a matter of weeks." Lexa frowned, not wanting to mark the passing of her wildest formative years as a celebration but rather a milestone to be mourned.

Clarke sighed and moved closer towards the commander who didn't bother to look up from the maps of nearby lakes she was studying at the war table, readying herself for the Ice Nation who would be arriving any moment.

"I'm sorry," Clarke forced, wiping the strain in her brow at conceding. "I just don't get why it's not important to you that our daughter gets a_ real_ education." she muttered.

Lexa glanced up for a moment, the corners of her lips quirking in surprise. Her skin simmered and Clarke knew it. "Have you listened to nothing I have said, woman?" her voice was lower, an octave heavier due to the weight of offence; a burden her wife had wrapped tighter around her neck with each off-hand remark.

Clarke crossed her arms and narrowed her stare, "What did you just call me?" she dared her wife to repeat her previous sentiment.

"There is nothing of higher importance to me than her education," Lexa rose from the table and stepped forward, nearly nose to nose. "she is born from the wings of blessed sky and the hallows of sacred ground but tell me, Clarke, will your chalk and books stop the slaughter of Trikru children if she must ever rise against a warring clan?" she breathed through a clenched jaw. "Will your poetry replace her skills and tongues if ever she must flee these lands with her many people?"

"You said the day she was born that she could be whatever she wanted to be but you just want another you, Lexa." Clarke spat with disgust, backing away from the rough palm that tried to graze her arm with renewed affection.

"She can be whatever she wants to be," Lexa swallowed, her hand retreating from the shrewd warmth her wife offered. "so long as she lives a long enough life to be it."

"If you give our daughter callouses and scars and teach her that's all she is worth in this world, I will never forgive you and neither will she." Clarke span on her feet, fleeing to busy herself with something of little importance.

"We will talk of this later. I would like to spend time with your daughter," Lexa bit back, "—or should I ask your permission for that privilege too?" she called over her shoulder before finally disappearing through the tent flap.

.

Lexa stood beside Indra and Octavia as the great Ice Nation armies set up camp inside their walls, readying for the armistice feast between their people. Bo stood quietly behind her mother's legs in a matching coat and red pauldron that was nearly too heavy for her, she peeked past her mother's knee as General Kazran of the frozen lands rode towards them from his ranks.

"Ice Nation swine." Indra muttered underneath her breath, "May they all know a fate worse than the sword."

Lexa nodded, placed her hand on the hilt of Indra's blade as the warrior threatened to unsheath it. "Our alliance is a fragile one; but the threat of a Desert Clan invasion calls for our ceasefire."

"Many alliances seem to be fragile, Heda." the warrior said knowingly.

"Shof-op Indra." Lexa warned her.

"_Will Clarke of the Sky-people be joining us_?" Indra muttered back in tree tongue as they all waited at the top of the hill.

"_I hope not._" Lexa huffed.

"_Around Clarke will come to the idea. For Bo's good._" Octavia advised, her Trigedasleng still broken and stiff.

"Teiva ste shishe trigedasleng rongop Mama." Bo tugged on Lexa's leg.

Her mother looked down, her tense jaw softening for a moment. "_Why Teiva speak tree-words wrong Mama?_" she asked again once she had the commander's attention.

"_Because she is from the sky_." Lexa advised the small wild thing hiding behind her legs. "_Come, stand at my side like a real commander._" she softly coaxed, stroking her hand down thick and wild curls.

"_I am a real commander, Heda_." Bo advised her mother, straightening her back to attention like Indra had shown her. She quickly scrambled and pushed Octavia to the side so she could stand next to Lexa to greet their guests.

Indra offered a smirk and a side glance, "She reminds me of you," she wanted to laugh. "although she is more sure of herself." she spoke in English.

"Our likeness is not lost upon me nor her and Clarke's; she is just as much sky as she is ground."

"Heda," Bo tugged at the hems of Lexa's coat sleeve. Mindful of her pronouns in front of company, she was dangerously astute and smart for her age, skills that she possessed in her own right rather than a gift of trait.

Bo didn't really know the answer when Lexa kneeled down and asked her why she sometimes called her Heda in front of strangers. It was instinct more than anything. Inside their tent Mama was different, she let down her braids and let the child run her fingers through her hair, she told her stories and carried her to bed, pretended to slay the frightening shadows cast from candles with her sword.

But in front of her people, she transformed into something majestic. Impossibly big and brave, her clan colours flying from her armour and her shoulders puffed with a quiet yet boastful pride, it made her stand with pride too, it made her want to be a Heda like her mother.

Lexa was everyone's Heda but she was Mama to only one. Bo never wanted that to change.

"Mama-Heda!" Bo tried again, finally getting her attention.

"Yes, Hedatu?" Lexa acknowledged her, "What troubles you?"

"If Teiva is from the sky, why does Mommy not speak tree words?"

"Because the tree words are special, they're just for us." Lexa lowered her voice. "Wherever we are, we'll always hear each other if we use them." she explained, pressing her fingers to her daughter's heart.

"Commander, my warmest thanks for your hospitality!" Kazran called and interrupted them, climbing down from his horse.

"Your thanks are not needed," Lexa stepped forward. "the alliance between Tree and Ice is one to be celebrated." she extended her hand, the two leaders grabbing one another's forearm in greeting.

"And yet the famous Klok kom Skaikru is missing from your ranks, does the alliance not stretch to the sky?" he raised an offended brow.

"My wife tends to the wounded that have returned from the Golden Sea."

"How noble." he smirked.

"Indeed." Lexa hid her embarrassment at her wife's absence. "Come," she instructed, leading him towards the planning tent with her hands behind her back. "there is much for us to discuss."

"Discussions can wait, Heda." he raised his palm, turning his attention to Bo. "You must be the famous Sky Princess I've heard so much about." he laughed, kneeling to greet her. "Here," he offered forward a small crown. "A gift from the Ice Nation for the little princess."

Bo didn't like him; his hair was white and his eyes were icy blue like the rest of the Ice Nation soldiers, there were no people with white hair and light eyes among their clan.

"I'm not a Sky Princess." Bo replied, stepping forward to his crouched figure. "I am a Heda." she said with determination.

The general laughed in honest amusement and put the crown back in his pouch, glancing up to Lexa's cautious eyes. "You have raised a fine warrior, she is nothing like the sky people I've met."

"She is the sky in more ways than you and I will ever understand." Lexa assured him.

"How does her mother feel about this child-Heda? from what I do understand of the sky, Klok kom Skaikru is not fond of our ways."

"I wouldn't trust the rumours." Clarke interrupted them, smiling and gracious, the perfect consort. "Heda." she nodded her head at her wife, aware of how important the politics of this meeting were.

"Klok kom Skaikru," he extended his hand. "Isabeau is as beautiful a child as the rumours say her to be, I just wonder what else to be true."

"Well she's the commander's daughter, it would be hard for her not to be." she smiled back warmly, placing a hand on Lexa's shoulder.

Lexa tried to stay stiff, tried to radiate waves and storms that would crash over her wife to let her know of the anger that still bubbled in her heart over their clashes earlier; but Clarke was the river at dusk, she was water that flew through clenched fists, impossible to catch or keep still.

"Uncle Kazran, can we go home yet? This place is horrible."

The general's cheeks burned red at his niece's faux-pas.

"It's okay," Clarke quickly reassured him. "Children are children."

He offered a gratuitous nod at her quickness to forgive the outburst and pulled the child forward, "Tamsin, this is Commander Lexa and Clarke, Leader of the Sky People."

"Hi." she offered coldly, her mother had warned her of these people.

"—This is Tamsin, daughter of the Ice Queen."

"Nice to meet you." Clarke crouched a little lower. The girl was tall for her age, maybe eight years old. White blonde hair and light icy eyes, her shoulders were tense as well as her jaw and the sky-leader couldn't be sure whether it was with fear or anger, maybe a little of both. She reminded her of Lexa.

"People say you fell from the sky…" Tamsin muttered, although it wasn't quite a question.

"I did." Clarke nodded.

"Before burning three-hundred of my men." Lexa added with monotone.

"—Well, maybe if you hadn't tried to kill us all." Clarke hissed.

"Mommy," Bo called out quietly amongst the thinly veiled formalities.

The Ice Nation frightened her, the smell of peppermint that radiated from them was cold in her nose and foreign, the sounds of their laughter and talk amongst her village was in a tongue she didn't recognise. She was frightened, the kind of frightened Lexa could never be seen to remedy in public; as much as it broke her heart.

Clarke didn't need to ask what the matter was, she knew. She hated the smell of peppermint too.

She opened her arms and little boots made quick work of the ground to crash into her chest, thick dark braids tucked under her chin. "I missed you today." Clarke whispered into her hair, "Have you had fun with Mama and Tevia?"

Bo nodded shyly, "Missed you." she replied softly.

It was only whilst looking at Tamsin that Clarke realised how small her own daughter still was, still a baby yet so many responsibilities soon to be on her shoulders, so many hopes and dreams. It hurt her heart to think about it.

"I guess you and Mama match now, huh?" Clarke laughed and shared a knowing look with the general, touching the pauldron Lexa ordered to be made after much pleading from Bo for a matching one like hers.

Bo nodded her head but didn't say much, pressing herself further into her mother's body.

"What's wrong?"

Nothing, not even a sound.

"Hey," Clarke pulled her away to look at her face. "is everything okay?"

Bo nodded.

"Are you just nodding because you want to be brave in front of Mama when she's being the Heda?" Clarke whispered.

Bo nodded and started to sob.

"Okay, come on." Clarke reassured her, picking her up onto her hip as hands wrapped around her neck and a face pressed into her shoulder. "Let's go get some cocoa, you've been brave enough for one day."

"Is everything okay?" Lexa quickly asked, tending to her side to stroke her daughter's head.

"She's fine, the world is a scary place when you're four." Clarke reassured her wife, "Why don't you and General Kazran move to the planning room, I'll take the children to our tent and we can meet at the table in an hour?"

"Tamsin?" Kazran asked his niece.

She nodded with downcast eyes and stepped towards Clarke's figure. "Sure." she agreed.

.

"Wanna tell me why you were upset?"

Bo stared at the floor with watery eyes, "My shoulder hurts, Mommy."

"Why didn't you tell Mama?" Clarke frowned.

"Cus' Hedas wear shoulder-helmets." she frowned too.

Clarke shook her head and made quick work of unfastening the pauldron and undoing the jacket. "You're not a Heda, you're four Isabeau."

"But I want to be a Heda." she frowned, jumping down from Clarke's knee to get her cocoa.

"What about you kiddo?" Clarke turned to Tamsin who sat on a chair, kicking her legs. She wore all black with a white pauldron attached to her shoulder. A pauldron she probably hadn't removed once on the fifteen-hour ride. "Want to take the armour off?"

"I'm fine." she scowled.

"Bo, go draw a picture for Mama." Clarke turned and smiled at her daughter, sending her scurrying for the paper and pencils before turning to the white haired child in front of her. "Why don't you like it here?" she quietly and curiously pried.

"My people and your people have been at war since the end of the old world." her eyes burned.

"My people came from the sky, you mean the Tree Clan."

"Mother says It's all the same." she scowled, crossing her arms.

"Tamsin how old are you?" Clarke shook her head, offset by her maturity.

"Seven."

"That's too young to worry about wars."

"Mother doesn't seem to think so." Tamsin looked to floor and frowned.

Clarke sat down at the table opposite the girl, waiting patiently for one of them to speak.

"What's your mother like?" Clarke asked softly.

Tamsin thought for a moment, her brows furrowing as she tried to find the right words. "She's pretty."

"You're very pretty too." Clarke tried hopefully to get her to open up.

"And she's the bravest warrior, but I'll be braver one day."

"You sound just like someone else I know." Clarke nudged her head towards the little one drawing pictures a few metres away.

.

They ate at the large table looking over the bustling village below the hill, music and party in full swing as the bitter wine the grounders were used too flew freely amongst the clans.

"How is she?" Lexa murmured into her wife's ear, her face the picture of stillness as her best generals sat around her, along with senior Ice Nation soldiers she had once faced on battlefields.

"She's okay, she just tries too hard to make you proud."

"She doesn't need too."

"Then you should be gentler with her in front of people." Clarke scolded her, taking a large swig of fermented wine before almost retching the foul tasting liquid back into her glass.

"Be careful, fire water will be passed out soon and I wouldn't want your head to feel too heavy." Lexa tried to hide her smirk, touching the bottom of her back.

"Mama I drew this for you." Bo interrupted them with a whisper, tugging at Lexa's sleeve.

"For me? What did I do to deserve such an honour?" Lexa whispered back whilst staring at the parchment, a picture of a soldier in costume holding another, albeit smaller, soldier's hand greeted her gaze.

"It's us."

"I can see that." Lexa bit back, unsure on her feelings. "Come sit with your boring mothers." she teased, passing Clarke the paper with a worried look.

With a quick and fluid motion Lexa pulled the child onto her lap, breaking a thousand protocols. Protocols she had followed with methodical precision all of her young life.

"I see the youngest Heda joins us once again." General Kazran laughed, lifting wine to his lips.

Tamsin stared across the table from her uncle's side into Lexa's eyes, she was possibly the only person here genuinely unafraid of the commander and her wrath. The child's unwavering stare unnerved the generals, even Indra herself.

"Tamsin, I hear your mother has you riding with patrol guards already. You'll make a fine warrior." Lexa said, stern and indomitable as ever even with a child on her lap.

"She begins as a second on her return to the frozen lands after the tour of the clans, youngest we've ever had. You should see her with a blade, silent and fast. The warriors she will cutdown will be grateful for their quick end." Kazran advised, pride glowing in his eyes.

The conversation made the commander feel queasy, the very lining of her stomach trembling as they talked over the deadly prowess of a seven year old girl, too young to be marked with blood.

"If you'll excuse us we'll be retiring to bed, Clarke is not feeling well." Lexa announced. Clarke finished her mouthful of boar meat, glancing at her wife with confusion. Lexa stared back for an uncomfortable second until Clarke finally realised her cue.

"Oh, right, yeah I feel unwell. Probably just a little too much wine." she laughed off, charming their guests.

.

Lexa waited in their bed whilst Clarke settled their daughter. Brooding and thinking.

A slim body quickly slipped underneath the furs, hands rubbing her arms and bare chest and stomach. "Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?" Clarke fussed over her, any presence of bitterness in her voice long gone.

"I don't think so."

"What happened at the table?" Clarke pushed anyway.

"Her eyes, Clarke." Lexa exhaled, rolling on her side hold her bare wife. "She felt nothing in her heart."

"A seven year old spooked my big bad Heda?" she teased, kissing the space between her nose and cheek, the corner of her eye, the crease of her lip.

"You don't understand," Lexa pulled away for a moment. "you were wrong to say such things earlier."

"Such things?"

Lexa rubbed her head, unable to rid herself of Tamsin's eyes. "That I want another version of myself." she frowned. "Tamsin is how I was after I lost my family, I do not wish that for our daughter."

"What do you want for her then?" Clarke propped herself up on one elbow.

"Everything, Clarke." she softly sighed, "I cannot read or write well, I don't want the same for her. I want her to have thousands of books stuck in her head like you, I want her to know every flower of the forest floor by colour alone, I want her to know the history of the world I will give to her one day."

"This morning you didn't want her anywhere near a classroom, now it sounds like the opposite."

"One day I will have to teach her to use a sword, the thought does not please me. I just want her to be outside, learning with other Trikru children. It does not mean I want to put a knife in her hand and send her to battle."

Clarke curled up on Lexa's chest, tucking her head beneath her chin. "She's determined to be you." she whispered, and immediately felt her body tense.

"It terrifies me."

"It should, you're stubborn."

"And you are not?" Lexa asked pointedly, running her hand over her wife's curves. "I enjoy these talks." she admitted quietly.

"The thought of her being like you doesn't scare me," Clarke admitted, kissing Lexa' lips gently, only pulling away to look in her eyes. "It's the thought of her breaking herself trying to be you."

"What do you mean?"

"She sobbed when we got back to the tent, the pauldron hurt her shoulder."

"Why didn't she tell me?" Lexa asked with wide eyes that Clarke could nearly make out from the flicker of a far-away candle. "I will have the blacksmiths neck if there is a bruise or mark on my girl." she stiffened and hissed.

Clarke rubbed the worry and tension from the darker woman's shoulders. "She didn't tell you because she wanted to be you, and the Heda doesn't complain or cry."

Lexa paused, lost for words. An unmistakeable burden on her chest knowing she was the cause of this. "I wish I could be soft Clarke, be the sun and clouds of her life—"

"She doesn't need you to be the sun and moon, just don't be impossible for her to fathom. One day; if she is, you know, the next," Clarke muttered, unable to say what they both knew she meant. "She'll need to know that being your daughter was always enough, she never needed to be the greatest Heda who ever lived for you to-"

"I will always love her, no matter what she does." Lexa interrupted. Her voice tight at the idea of her wild thing not knowing how much she is worshiped and adored.

"No," Clarke shook her head. "she knows that, she'll always know you love her. But one day she'll need to know you respect her too."

"I will." Lexa promised, "Will you be able to do the same if she doesn't wish to be a painter or a writer?"

"I will." Clarke promised.

"Then let us stop negotiating her life away."

"When did she stop being a baby?" Clarke frowned as they pulled each other close and held each other tight.

"To me, she'll always be a tiny babe swaddled in furs too big for her," Lexa smiled at the memory. Smiled at the feeling of Clarke's lips smirking against her skin, her breaths tickling Lexa's neck. "But make no mistake my daughter will be the greatest Heda who ever lived. I can feel it."


	6. The Origins of Alliances

**AN:** Just a short little something to help introduce the next few chapters, they'll also be some throwbacks to when Bo was little. First steps, first words, first everything etc. Please review! :)

She stayed low amongst the thickets, her dagger tight in her grasp. She melded into the world around her in a way few could understand, where she ended and the frost of hard winter began was questionable. She is tall and slight and fourteen, already a leader amongst the seconds, already lauded as the child general.

"Tamsin!" Kazran hissed, doubling back round to catch her blind spot. His footsteps were loud and thudding, sending the deer she was patiently scouting back into the depths of the woods.

She heard her uncle first, was aware of him long before he was aware of her. None the less she rolled her eyes and sheathed her blade.

"Yes?" she sighed, her frame slumping in defeat.

"You are looked up to." he simmered, shoulders and chest panting from his efforts. "Disobeying your mother— it won't be tolerated."

"Tolerated?" she rolled her eyes and tightened her jaw, "Forget tolerating me for a second, how do you tolerate _them_?"

With large and battered hands he pulled Tamsin to her feet and dusted the frost and leaves off of her clothes. "The Commander and her people are much like ours, there are bigger threats beyond the waters to us both-"

"I didn't ask why, I asked _how_." she interrupted.

Kazran sighed and weighed the mirth of the words on his tongue. Tamsin was like her father; furious and brilliant and steady. She was too much like her father and yet seemingly not enough, nowhere near as capable of moving forward in the face of necessity.

"I ask myself how much Trikru blood has soiled my hands and boots, all of our hands and boots." he swallowed, pulling her back towards camp by her thin arm. "We are not the only ones who lost people in the wars."

"They killed him."

"Your father killed many of them."

"Not enough." she spat. "I don't understand why I have to spend the Summer with the raccoon and her merry band of mixed bloods."

"You and the Commander's daughter are to be aligned."

"Aligned?"

"One day you will own the Ice, and she will own the Trees and Sky. Alliances must be forged on the back of something greater than fear, Tamsin." he chuckled, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You will take her as your second for the Summer, friendships must be forged if the alliance is to carry through generations. Now come, you must leave if you're to make it by sundown."

With that, Tamsin's fingers grew tight around her dagger once more.

.

"I do not want her here." Lexa hissed, she bore her teeth like the hungry wolf and for a moment Clarke wondered whether she'd devour the council whole.

"She already rides." Nyko added, "Word was sent at dawn."

Lexa scowled, moving from her chair to the planning table where maps of routes and clans lay. "If we send riders now we can reach them by noon, I'm sure they can rest with Luna's clan in the north..."

Nyko rose from his chair at the council table, a regrettable move. "Commander, it's customary for alliances—"

"Do not dare tell me of our customs, my bones and skin are littered and forged from our customs. I know them better than any other within this room." she growled, circling the table.

"For once, I'm in agreement with Lexa." Abby eagerly spoke up, "We can't afford for Isabeau to fall behind in her studies over the Summer."

"Okay, you know what? Time out." Clarke finally huffed, rising from her chair. "Everybody out."

"Clarke?" Abby quirked her brow.

Her eyes flickered between Lexa's staunch posture and her mother's questioning gaze. "We don't need a council to tell us how to raise our daughter, the meeting is over, everybody out." she breathed, waiting patiently as one person after another left the cellar whilst muttering and grumbling their disapproval under their breath.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Abby added, lingering by the door for a moment.

"So do I." Clarke mused, rubbing her temples.

They were alone, as alone as either of them could ever be. She breezed to Lexa's side and blew away the layer of politics and responsibility that hung on her like dust from the ceiling.

"What do you think?" Lexa finally broke the silence, her posture relaxing if only slightly thanks to the gentle hands that mapped out the constellations of her moles and scars.

Clarke sighed and tucked blonde hair behind her ears, leaning against the table. "I think you're worried."

"Astute, Clarke."

"Enough with the sarcasm."

"Sarcasm is the weapon of a weak mind."

"I think it would be good for her to be friends with Tamsin…" Clarke finally admitted, between the chew of her lip and slouch of her posture Lexa saw the flame behind the eyes, the familiar warning of bad backs that would follow from sleeping in the guard-tower whilst her impossible sky woman brewed in bed over their inevitable disagreement.

Lexa tensed her jaw back and forth, weighed the buoyancy of her words; undecided on whether they would sink or float. "You know how I feel about Tamsin."

"I know how you feel about the Ice Nation."

"It is what it is, Clarke."

"It's anything but," Clarke shook her head. "Tamsin is the daughter of an impossible leader, Bo is the daughter of two. She needs a friend who knows what that's like and this alliance needs two future leaders who believe in it just as much as we do..."

Lexa simmered from the very soles of her feet to the wires of her hair, shaking and angry at the necessities and duties imposed upon them. "She was to be my second first." she shook, the very timbers of her structure swaying inside. "As I was my mother's, she was to be mine."

"She will always be yours." Clarke frowned and rubbed the bulging temple. "She was yours the minute you catched her and wrapped her in blankets, that's what being a parent is Lexa."

"Alliances forged on the back of alliances are far more dangerous than those aligned off the wings of war." Clarke furrowed her brow and watched the tick and pace of Lexa's jaw.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," she whispered and took a step forward, her eyes brilliant and furious and steady. "If Tamsin oversteps her bounds, I will make the consequence look like a tragic accident." she promised, storming out of the cellar with her colours flowing behind her.

.

"Where is she?" Lexa asked quietly as she entered their quarters, the fire barely burning light into the dark of night. Finally venturing home after a long day of looking for something she couldn't quite find.

"Relax," Clarke sighed from the journals she'd busied herself with. "Tamsin and her attendants are resting in the North, they'll be here in the morning. Isabeau is with Octavia tonight." she explained, moving to her side. "I thought we should have some time to talk."

"There is too much time to talk." Lexa shook her head, "Too much time to discuss things that have seemingly been decided."

"You can't think like that."

"And yet I do." Lexa tightened her jaw and poured herself a drink.

"Six years and you still hold a grudge against the kid." Clarke shook her head and sat back at the table.

"A grudge? you think this is a grudge?" she threw an incredulous look. "I hear the stories, they're whispered to me from migrants from the south, passed on to me from leaders of neighbouring clans. The Valkyrie, she rides."

"The Valkyrie?" Clarke lifted a brow.

"Legend has it they were warriors sent by God himself to scour the world, paler than white and darker than night. The girl, she worries me."

"You can't be serious."

"Do my words hold merriment for you?"

"She is just a girl…" Clarke tried with gentle eyes and an attempt for her wife's hand.

"I hope for our sakes you are right, Clarke." Lexa began to remove her braids. "There was a time when you were just a girl from a far away land I had no knowledge of."

"I fell from the sky."

"She bends on solid water."


	7. There's No Cheating In War

She tightened the belt that held her overcoat in place, shifting and twisting against the bound leather uncomfortably. She is small, untutored in the dangerous ways of the world. Inexperienced in being anything but the leaders' daughter. She is eleven and malleable and naive, yet sharp and quick.

"You remind me of your mother." Lexa placed a hand on her shoulder.

Bo span on her feet, nearly tangling herself with height she was still growing into. "God, do you always have to creep up on me like that Ma?" she huffed.

"I do not creep. You just haven't learned to hear me yet."

"What does that mean?"

"One day you'll know." Lexa smirked, buttoning the top of Bo's coat collar. "Are you ready for today?"

"Are you?" Bo lifted her brow.

Lexa growled and rolled her eyes, "Too much like your mother." she sighed, fastening the pauldron to her daughter.

"Mom says I'm just like you…"

"Your mother is right about most things, but not that." Lexa lowered herself to Bo's eyeline, her eyes true and her shoulders stiff. "You are much like us both and yet too much like yourself for either of us to understand."

"You're doing that thing where you talk in riddles." Bo rolled her eyes.

Lexa pressed her hands into her daughter's shoulders, her hands were tight and sturdy and certain, anchoring them to this memory for as long as they lived to remember it. Their foreheads resting against one another's whilst the noise and bustle of the people outside readying their seconds for the trip to the clan's many outposts carried through the tent flaps, and yet somehow the air was still so peaceful and quiet.

She ran her blackened thumb over her daughter's brow and above her cheeks, marking her with paint as her mother and grandmother and great-grandmother once did on this day.

"You are your own soul, and it makes me proud Isabeau." she breathed. "Do not let anyone take your mother's gentleness from your heart, not I, nor Tamsin."

"I don't like her."

"Neither do I."

"Then why can't I be your second."

"Because you're my first." Lexa stifled a smile, holding the back of Bo's neck. "I am sending you and Tamsin to the outpost in the neck of the great woods, there is word of gypsies travelling through the villages and it's also close enough for Octavia to send word if you misbehave."

"What's the fun in behaving?"

Lexa shook her head and left their quarters, stopping short of the tent flaps. "_Too much_ like your mother." she sighed, stiffening her posture and greeting the roars of her name.

…

They filled the silence with means other than small talk. The thud of horse hooves against the fresh soil, the crack of branches, occasional words in their separate tongues to the other apprenticing seconds. It was neither comfortable or familiar, somewhere less than threatening yet more than distant.

"You're breaking her in wrong." Tamsin finally turned her head and sneered.

"How so?" Bo asked with gentle eyes, her hands still smoothing down the mane of her new bay roan; a gift from her mother.

"You're too soft." she added, turning to face the untrodden path ahead as they lead the other seconds through the thick of the forest. "Your horse should be just as ready as you to fight if need be."

"Is that all that matters to you? How to fight?" Bo raised her brow, scratching the roan's speckled ear as it snorted with approval, lifting its head.

"It is." she nodded, "And it's all that should matter to you to."

"And if your people are hungry or sick, you'll fix that with your sword?"

"Swords can defend our borders, our crops and our healers."

"Words can do the same."

Bo had already hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud by the time she saw Tamsin's boot coming for her side. She blinked and steadied her spinning head for less than a second and yet it was still too long to stop the fist that found a handful of her hair and the steel that pressed against her quivering throat. "Your words didn't protect you from this, how will they protect your people?"

"When I figure it out I'll show you." Bo winced from watering eyes, breathing a relieved sigh as the blade Tamsin controlled was quickly retracted; Tamsin shook her head and mounted her horse again.

"Up." she demanded, "We must ride."

"What the hell just happened?" Octavia interrupted with a hiss, riding up to the front ranks to pull Bo from off the ground. "Are you okay?" she whispered, cupping her wobbling cheek.

"_I really hate her Teiva._" she whispered back in their language.

"I know." Octavia nodded, picking a holly leaf from her hair. "But you are your parents daughter and when she leasts expects it, you'll kick her ass."

"Lesson number one; always be prepared." Tamsin rolled her eyes, kicking her feet into her black stallion.

…

The summer was relentless and Tamsin felt the full unforgiving force on her pale skin. Between naps in the shade and sharpening her blade, they practiced and begrudgingly patrolled the nearby roads together. Bo didn't care much for Tamsin's lessons, nor did Tamsin care much to teach.

The pinks of her shoulders blistered under the midday sun but she circled her second regardless, her wooden sword held expertly in her hand, her feet were quick and nimble and already knew their next move before Bo could even raise the wood above her head to defend against a deliberately slow offensive.

"This is pointless." Tamsin gritted her teeth, her sword was thrown to the ground and a hundred eyes bore into the spectacle with no discrete tact. "If only the commander knew how pathetic a warrior you are, she should have taken you to the water and drowned you at birth."

Bo kept her stare focused on the floor, her jaw wound and her knuckles tight against the grain of the wood. She simmered with unadulterated rage; fought to maintain the respected stoicism the Heda had tutored her expertly in since birth.

"If you cry I will drag you by your feet all the way back to TonDC." she seethed, her eyes a furious and impossible shade of green.

Bo shielded her gaze from the blur of the sun; she caught the wave of Tamsin's legs and the tremor of her hands before anyone else. She'd seen enough children in the blaze of July carried to her mom's tent to know the signs of the sun sickness.

If there was one other thing she also learned from her mom; it was the power of a good story.

Tamsin found herself on her back, the taste of iron lingered on her lips and everything felt blurry and uncertain. The sky and clouds moved too quickly above her like time had been sped up; with a blink of her eyes treelines grew overhead.

"What happened?" she choked; blood dribbling from her nose as she stared at the sky.

"She just, she flew at you." Octavia leaned into her vision and grinned, helping to carry the stretcher to the medical tent. "It was spectacular, she knocked you straight on your ass; we were laughing for a while till we realised you weren't getting back up."

"Lesson number one; always be prepared." Bo whispered just loud enough for Tamsin to hear.

…

She waited amongst the people for the early return of the new seconds, pride riddled in every crease and dip of her face. Pride that grew with every laugh and slap to her shoulder from warriors who also caught word of the little Heda's scuffle.

"Lexa this isn't funny, do you want to be the one to tell her uncle she's hurt?" Clarke whispered to her ear as Lexa painted the air around herself and Indra with the story of the daughter of trees, how quickly she moved, how furious her hands were.

"There is time for those things," Lexa swallowed, folding her hands behind her back. "Afford me a brief moment of pride for our daughter."

"This is how she earns your pride? Fighting other kids?"

"No," she shook her head. "By winning."

"She is grounded."

"Tomorrow, Clarke."

"Lexa-"

"Please, tomorrow?"

Lexa lowered her voice and rubbed a thumb over the fist Clarke had worked her frustrated nerves into. "Fine," Clarke quietly conceded. "She can help me in the medical tent and help fix-up the mess herself."

"Thank you." Lexa quirked her lips.

"You're grounded too."

"For a woman of the sky, you speak frequently of grounding sparrows and starlings."

…

They rode behind the back ranks, Tamsin slumped over Bo's back like a skinned and slaughtered beast whilst sweat and confusion hung heavy on her brow. Bo stroked and made a fuss of the black stallion, feeding him the fruits of trees too high for his nose to reach.

"Stop doing that." she mumbled.

"Mom says I'm not great at taking orders." she mused, it only took a second for her to feel the shift in Tamsin's weight as the taller girl threatened to slip off her back with exhaustion. "Hey," she nudged her, pulling her further onto her back. "You stop doing that."

"I'm not great at taking orders either." she tried to laugh.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Tamsin," she huffed. "Mom would say you need water."

"I'm _fine_." she hissed, the bite of her words not lost to the fever.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried." she snorted, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"I know, but I should have told someone about the tremors in your hand."

Tamsin lazy breaths hitched in her throat and her body tensed, "Explain." she ordered.

"You've got the heat sickness, I've seen it before. That's why your reactions were slow and you were getting frustrated."

"So you saw a weakness and exploited it?"

Bo nodded her head and swallowed, the Heda's head on her neck and the sky-leader's heart in her chest. "I cheated, I want to beat you because I'm better."

"There is no cheating in war." Tamsin sighed, closing her eyes beneath the shade that protected her from the painful brightness. "Maybe we'll make a Heda of you yet."

"I already am a Heda."

With that Tamsin laughed, it was light and airy and foreign, unexpected from a thing so pale and crisp. "If you're a Heda, I'm a frickin' healer."

"You're too impatient to be a healer, healing is more watching and waiting than anything else."

Quietness lulled the conversation until the only sound was the thud of the horse's hooves, like the waves at dawn the repetition was comforting.

"Sleipnir."

"What?"

"My horse, his name is Sleipnir." Tamsin sighed, drifting in and out of sleep on the girl's back. "He prefers apples, he's only eating the blackberries to be polite."


	8. Rabbits and Starlings

**AN: Working on some baby sized Bo throw-backs so fear not! To the person(s) who keeps reviewing this story and inboxing me ordering me to write more for my Glee fiction - this isn't Timehump Chronicles and as much as I wish you were, you aren't Poussey... let me go at my own pace so I can figure out how to make it excellent for you guys! Love - Captain Rodcocker xo**

**P.S - Shit's about to get real.**

Over the years they were friends nor enemies; they lived and danced and breathed and fought somewhere between that line. Somewhere where the ice and the forest met for a few weeks at the birth of every summer, on other people's insistence - people invested in the alliance of their nations.

Lexa has trained Bo well, from the hunt to the slaughter she knew every meticulous and righteous detail of their duties as the highest among their people, she simply was the Trikru way in every breath that she drew and every stride that she claimed amongst the green and timber. The daughter of trees, the slayer of beasts.

Yet she was still impossibly childlike in her wonder, nearly sixteen, not accustomed to the height and presence she'd grown into, she was long and slender with long dark hair that bounced when she ran, eyes as green as her mother's and a face carved after Clarke's own, yet she was still too young to be aware or in control of her own charm.

Of course the clansmen looked, they looked but none dared speak of the Hedatu's beauty. Only one man had made the mistake of asking the Heda for her hand, he paid for that mistake with his own.

.

They sat over an old book of medicine, a great dusty thing, patiently studying ointments that could treat poisons and lotions that could soothe pain whilst the convoy on the horizon taunted their ever-brooding commander.

"You know, one of these days your Mama will admit she has a soft spot for Tamsin." Clarke nudged Bo's shoulder, catching the younger cloud glimpsing through the tent flaps at Lexa, pacing and impatient like a hungry wolf.

Bo chuckled, she had a way of laughing that lightened the room. A gift she had claimed since she was tiny enough to sit on their shoulders. "You make Ma tolerate her. Hell, you make _me_ tolerate her." she turned her head, a broad smile reaching from the stars in her eyes. "Neither of us have a soft spot for her; only for you Mom." she squeezed Clarke's arm.

"I'm just saying… I think she secretly likes her." Clarke shrugged. "All of your other friends are scared of her, except for Tamsin."

"All of my other friends have to be scared of you both, you're the leaders." Bo rolled her eyes and closed the pages of the book for a later time of less distractions, "She nearly exiled her last time she was here, Mom." she lowered her voice into a whisper, standing from the table to stretch her legs and belly with one long reach for the ceiling, pulling her dark brown hair and braids into a ponytail out of her face. "Ma doesn't like anyone, except for me and_ sometimes_ you."

"Your mother sent three-hundred of her best warriors to kill me and left me stranded outside a fortified mountain with a gun and your Aunt Octavia before we, you know, found a way to like each other." Clarke raised her brow and smirked. "She's not an easy woman to like."

"Yeah but she only had an army, you had Aunt Octavia. It was kinda obvious you two were going to wipe out all those Mountain Men and save everyone." Bo grinned, pulling her favourite imitation of Octavia's fighting stance.

"Hey!" Clarke lowered her brow, grabbing the floating fist that pretended to knock down an invisible onslaught of enemy blows. "Don't joke about what happened on the Mountain, one day you might have to make decisions like that."

"Like what?"

"Who lives, who dies." Lexa cleared her throat behind them, wrapping them both in her arms.

"I'll find a way to save everyone." Bo looked up from her Lexa's shoulder with determination glimmering from her eyes and smile, a gift from the sky. "And if I can't, then I will find a way to be better next time."

"And that," Lexa smiled, pressing a kiss to her daughter's head. "Is why the thought of you leading our people one day doesn't fill my chest with lead." she chuckled.

"Because one day I'll be the greatest?"

"One day," she nodded, "but the history books will bear my name as the Heda who gave such a gift to the world." Lexa mused, letting her grasp on their daughter loosen so she could fill a glass with something to calm her stomach. "The Ice Nation is expected any minute, perhaps it's time for you to be the one to welcome them." she suggested, wrapping her arm around Clark's waist.

"Both of you, out there now." Clarke shook her head and pointed to the tent flaps.

"Clarke-"

"Now." Clarke lowered her brow.

Lexa tightened her posture, swallowed on the bow of her chin. "We will talk of this later when the starling is away." she lowered her voice.

Clarke ran her hand over the back of Lexa's braids as she turned towards the opening, she was still as young and beautiful as she always was, maybe an extra scar here or a line there, but the Earth had been kind to them both. "I was hoping we could do some other things whilst the starling is away, _Commander_." Clarke said with no mirth or bounce to her words.

"Guys stop being gross, I get it. I'm the starling, you two are the rabbits, I don't need to hear anymore." Bo shuddered, grabbing her things and heading for the grass.

"Did she-" Lexa paused, eyeing the room around them with an open mouth. "I will kill that girl one day."

"No you won't." Clarke laughed, rubbing the small of her back.

"Rabbits?" Lexa raised her brow.

Clarke bit the corner of her lip and wrapped her arms around Lexa's neck. "She's not a baby anymore, she knows things." she whispered, resting her forehead against her wife's.

"She is, she will always be a babe." Lexa shuddered, before her eyebrows lowered with the weight of concern. "You don't think she-" she paused, staring at her Clarke with eyes that bore the truth her lips couldn't speak. "Rabbits?" she tensed her jaw.

"She isn't doing that," Clarke rubbed her shoulders. "If she was she would tell me."

"And she would not tell me?" Lexa crossed her arms.

Clarke pressed her hands to her face, gentle and reassuring in all the ways that brought the wolf in Lexa's heart on to it's belly. "You would kill them."

"That implies they wouldn't suffer first," Lexa leaned in to their conversation. "Believe me, they would suffer in a part of the woods where their cries would meet no ears."

"That," Clarke waved her hand in the air like she could capture the words that left the darkest part of Lexa's wrath, "Is why she wouldn't tell you."

.

They rode over the ridges that overlooked the river fork, as they always did on the first day of Summer. The forest never changed much, the only view that always changed was the reflection of each other, always adjusted to the maturity that came with another winter and another spring.

"I'm bored of hearing you complain about the trip, tell me about the Great Sea of Ice again." Bo finally interrupted her with a grin, she didn't bother to make eye contact. She was too focused on Sleipner, too absorbed in the white beast's satisfied snorts and his purple lips from the blackberries she'd saved from breakfast.

"Every time, Isabeau." Tamsin shook her head, "You always ask about the ice sea."

"Every time is just as good a time as any." Bo shrugged.

"Maybe so, maybe so." Tamsin shook her head, climbing down from the horse. "Here's just as good a place as any to set up camp for the afternoon."

"Aren't we supposed to be on a hunt?" Bo threw her a confused look.

Tamsin was muscular and long, her hair was pure white, scraped into a bun that hid any estimate of how long it was. Her skin glowed and her eyes pierced like moonlight through the forest floor. Eighteen and feared amongst those who hear whispers of her war wrath, yet somehow Bo never stopped seeing her as the seven year old girl swallowed by her oversized pauldron and boots.

"Right," Tamsin rolled her eyes and smirked. "You might have your parents fooled but I know the truth." she snorted, sitting under the tree on the flat stone.

"What does that mean?" Bo narrowed her stare, throwing herself down at Tamsin's side with her satchel.

She laughed, it was that light and airy laugh that Bo remembered from their childhoods. Tamsin stifled it with a bite from an apple she plucked from the tree's branches, offering one to Bo too. "Just because you're good at hunting doesn't mean you like it, word came in the Spring that you _singlehandedly_ killed the jaguar that stalked your village." she swallowed the bite, and paused for a moment. "I know how much you care for the animals, I was very sorry to hear about it." she frowned.

Bo nodded, her jaw was tense and for a moment they simply sat in the gentle sway of nothingness with the sun overhead.

"I tried to save her." she nodded once again, "She was this silent wild thing, always saw you before you saw her, the first time I saw her I'd tripped over a fallen branch on guard patrol, I looked up and there was just two giant yellow eyes staring back at me, inches away."

"What happened?" Tamsin leaned forward, taking another mouthful of her apple.

"We stared at each for a second. Indra and Teiva weren't far behind, they scared her off and she ran back into the woods like she was never even there, I knew I'd follow her, find her again." Bo smiled, her voice both silky and husky in all the tones Tamsin liked.

"And then?" Tamsin pushed further.

She leaned against the bark of the tree, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Ma took us all to the water-hole opening to practice bladework, it stalked us in the long grass, watched us fight and practice. Indra knocked me down with the handle of her sword-"

Tamsin chuckled and grinned, "I always did like Indra."

"The jaguar snarled at her, bore it's teeth and Ma drew for her sword but the cat was too fast and ran back into the thickets. After that I saw her more, it didn't take long before I had her trust, I brought her food and scratched her ears. She'd follow me to the water-hole and we'd play in the shallows." Bo nodded purposefully, reflecting on what brought her the most shame.

"Your mom knew, didn't she?"

"She followed me home, all the way to our tent. I think she was just curious, you know?"

"Sure." Tamsin smiled softly.

"Mom made Ma send out her best warriors but they weren't fast enough, an arrow caught her leg but she just, she _flew_ back into the woods." Bo sniffed, claiming her composure again. "I begged them to leave her be, but it was too late, the village already wanted her blood."

"You couldn't save her." Tamsin mused, placing her hand on top of Bo's. "Sometimes we have to hurt to protect the things we love."

"I was going to send her far away but when I found her it was too late, she was limping and her eyes were shallow, and I knew they would hunt her and chase her and wear her skin."

"Come here, idiot." Tamsin frowned, pulling Bo's head onto her shoulder. "They speak of you amongst my clan, they call you the Daughter of Trees." she murmurred.

"Has a nicer ring to it than the Valkyrie, don't you think?"

"Eh," Tamsin shrugged, half a smirk creeping up her lips. "You get used to it after a while."

.

The afternoon melted into the sunset, they explored the in-between of each other for hours. Re-familiarising through a year of change, the fresh scar on Tamsin's shoulder, the battle of ten kings, the growing reputation of the fierce Daughter of Trees.

From the valley of thickets that stretched from these plains to the beyond they rode to the water's edge, galloping and flying over the moss and dirt. Bo was at home but Tamsin was determined, she was a fierce opponent; weaving and navigating the bark and branches like the forest herself whispered shortcuts in her ear.

But it was Bo to break the surface of the water first, to surrender herself so willingly to its depths. Tamsin skirted and shuffled and tempted the idea of going further past her ankles, until tanned and roughened palms grabbed her wrists and pulled her into untrodden territory. Normally Tamsin was too guarded, too rigid, too regimental in her tendencies to allow such a transgression but she made an exception for the damned daughter of trees, the annoying and wretched impossible girl.

Tamsin froze and stood rigid as the water lapped against her skin, holding Bo's wrists in return, her jaw tensing back and forth, back and forth, in a way Bo often did herself when deep in thought. "You know, for someone so talented with a sword you're kind of a wuss." she teased, quickly dipping her head underneath the cool of the ripples.

"For someone who supposedly has more than one brain cell you make it so tempting to hold you underneath until the bubbles stop." Tamsin hissed, a not quite there tremble moving over her shoulders.

Bo laughed, that annoying laugh that lightened and broke any restraint. "You've never-"

"Don't finish that sentence." Tamsin warned her, icy blue eyes narrowing into the frown of her cheeks. "Our lakes and rivers are frozen, swimming isn't a valuable skill set."

"Sure it is." Bo grinned, floating on her back and tugging Tamsin with her. "There's no pauldrons to hold you down in the water."

"Pull me any further and I will use your body as a canoo." the older girl warned, digging her feet in what was left of the silt.

Bo paddled her feet through the water, swimming close enough to the Ice Princess to earn her breath on her shoulder as she grabbed her forearms for leverage to lead her back into shallower depths. The smell of peppermint still lingered ten years later, and for a moment she was neither sure of whether it was the smell that softened or her opinion of it. It wasn't as harsh as she remembered.

"What are you doing?" Tamsin asked, her bite rapidly retracted.

"Do you remember when I was thirteen and the monsoons came, and we sparred in the mud and you kicked me down a hundred times until I learned how to throw you over my hip?"

"Sure I do, your mother wasn't happy. By the time we were done it was only the whites of your eyes that were spared from the bruises." she laughed a little.

"She rarely is happy with outsiders." Bo smirked, "But by sundown I'd learned how to throw you over my hip, remember?"

"What the hell does that have anything to do with this?"

"I'm going to teach you to float."

"No, you're not. What if I sink?" Tamsin raised her brow, pulling Bo back towards the shallower ends.

"I'm counting on it."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a valuable skill." Bo laughed, rolling through the water to lie on it's surface. "Try it, I'll fish you out if you sink." she grinned, slapping her hand against the water to send splatters Tamsin's way.

"Comforting." Tamsin rolled her eyes, she lowered her knees into the water first and laid backwards into it's depths, the centre of her gravity quickly sinking into the water along with the rest of her.

"See," Bo giggled, quickly grabbing the blonde before she could thrash against the water rushing through her nose. "I said I would fish you out." she smiled.

The water glistened in Tamsin's white locks as she shook her hair loose, droplets hung off the praecipes of her chin and shoulders in a way that made the afternoon sun sparkle against the taut sinews of her skin. "Another day we will come to the water and you can teach me how to swim, forgive me if I don't feel like floating today." she scowled.

"Eh, I guess it's not your fault you don't have stars in your bones or clouds in your heart."

"The clouds are definitely in your ego, I think that's why it rises every time I see you." the blonde cracked a smirk, casting fresh water into Bo's face on the cast of her palm.

For a shining moment; brief like an exploding supernova, the highest of their people splashed and laughed in the water's edge. A secret to only them and the trees that they too were just girls beneath their steel and leather.

"Why do I never remember you being that fun when we were kids?" Bo huffed, her chest fighting to catch her breath from being thrown under the water's skin by arms that betrayed Tamsin's true strength.

Tamsin dug her toes into the silt and let her hands float on the surface, anchoring her in a moment of peace. "Because... I wasn't a fun kid." she shrugged.

"You can say that again." Bo murmured.

As if on cue, Tamsin raised a brow to illustrate her unamusement.

"What?" Bo exasperatedly sighed, "You were tough and better and you never went easy on me, you always had this tightness in your face... like you were always holding back a smile… they were my favourite things about you growing up." she mused.

"Your favourite things about me?"

"Sure." Bo nodded, dipping her face below the water so only her nostrils and eyes peaked above the surface.

"You were always so alive." Tamsin blinked at the sky, like she might find the answers in the clouds Bo's blood fell from. "You laughed and smiled and ran and enjoyed every second of, well, everything." she shrugged. "You still do, like starlings live in your veins." she whispered on the curve of an awe-inspired smile.

She felt the water carve and move, she saw Bo long before the Daughter of Trees saw her, and yet she didn't stop her, didn't move to prevent what came.

The arms around her neck moved like oil whilst gentle and uncertain lips pressed against her own, dragged her into unchartered depths; normally Tamsin was too guarded, too rigid, too regimental in her tendencies to allow such a transgression but she made an exception for the damned daughter of trees, the annoying and wretched impossible girl.

"What was that for?" she whispered, breathless against the uncertain kiss whilst a starling she swallowed fluttered in her gut.

"I'm…" Bo looked at her with those heartbreaking eyes, so big and innocent and gentle, suddenly too lovely to ever gaze upon her staunch and set shoulders. "I'm not sure." she mused.

"The Heda would kill us…"

"She would…" Bo nodded.

They moved towards one another, it was slow and soft, a gentle kiss that whispered it's instructions to them both; place your hand here, tilt your head like this, try not to bump your nose. The world was black and white and green and ice, until she revealed herself in all her beauty and vastness with just one soft kiss, one soft kiss that was quickly disturbed by indignant Trikru cries.

"The Ice Nation serpent forces herself on the Hedatu!" Indra roared from the thickets with wild eyes, the voices of more warriors than could be seen to the naked eye joined her chorus. "Death to the white devil!" she snarled in their tongue, loud enough for Bo to cringe.

"I'm guessing she didn't exactly order her men to bake me a pastry?" Tamsin rose her brow and rolled her eyes, not an inch of fear betraying the hum or tick of her skin.

Bo closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Listen to me." Tamsin's voice lowered and echoed over the short length water separating them, "It doesn't matter what they do, they won't hurt me, okay?"

Bo's eyes stayed close as the hisses and shouts grew louder, but she forced a shameful, timid nod.

"_We will come back to this water and you will teach me to fly, Starling_." Tamsin whispered with a smile in Ice tongue before calloused and rough hands dragged her out of the water on Indra's command, an axe handle busting her star-touched lips and a kick to the solar-plexus brought her crashing to her knees at Indra's feet.

"Jus drein jus daun." Indra seethed.


	9. The Tendency of Warnings

**AN: To the reviewers who keep ranting and raving about Valkubus; go away to another story if you don't like mine, it really is that simple. To answer a recurring question though, I just used the names because I think they're both strong female characters. I personally see Tamsin pretty much the same as she is in Lost Girl because Rachel Skarsten is life, but Bo is just namesake for me - I envision my Bo as more of a Zoey Deutch. (Google image search - you really won't be disappointed.)**

They stood stiff and tall and ready on the hill; the wind blew from the south and whipped Clarke's hair until it looked like the flicker of flames against the sunset. Indra had rode ahead whilst their men brought back Tamsin and the Daughter of Trees from the far western waters, each one of Indra's words struck like an axe, she painted the sky above and around them in the war tent with the story of how Tamsin's roaming hands grabbed their frightened and bare daughter, how they pulled the Hedatu from the waters and she was so afraid of the Ice girl she swore blind her innocence.

The words swung their weight against Clarke's oak and timber until she was finally felled and the war table weathered the force of Lexa's pummelling fists as all things that are fit for purpose should.

They stood stiff and tall and ready on the hill; Lexa's arm tight around Clarke's waist as the procession carried through their gates to the cries of their people.

"Our baby." Clarke broke a whimper from what felt like a bottomless pit deep in her chest at the sight of their daughter, still so small, so young. "Our _baby_, Lexa."

Lexa's arm bore her weight, held her and squeezed again and again. It was half reassurance and half for the necessity of image; they would not be seen to falter and cower in the eyes of this devil, just as they would not be seen to show mercy.

"I know," Lexa nodded, her rage as deep and black as her war paint. "You will have your justice."

"I don't want justice," Clarke bit, her teeth grinding against one another at the sight of Tamsin; tied to the back of her own horse as it dragged her through their gates and to her fate. "I want revenge." she ordered, her skin simmering with motherhood and tendency.

Lexa released a deep breath, placing her hands behind her back. "As you wish, my love." she agreed, pressing her forehead against Clarke's as a fresh set of tears scalded her.

Lexa's face was stoic and removed, her shoulders set in their posture as she held her beloved, weathered the slaps to her arms as Clarke tried to escape her grasp like a wild animal, she bore the weight of her duty effortlessly, as all things fit for purpose should.

…

"Jus Drein, Jus Daun."

The people chanted so loud the thud was felt deep in her heart.

"Jus Drein, Jus Daun."

Each syllable, each hand that tore into the air above it made her ache in places she didn't know possible to ache.

"Jus Drein, Jus Daun."

They will kill her because they fear her, just as they did the jaguar.

The warriors by the water knew, they knew and that's why they wouldn't let her pass to where the Commander circled Tamsin like a hungry wolf. "Mom!" Bo shouted with relief, tearing past the guard who blocked her way and into Clarke's arms as she made her way down the hill.

"It's going to be okay, Indra told us what happened." Clarke whispered against her cheek as she smoothed down still-damp tendrils of hair. "Please tell me this has never happened before." she whispered over the chants of their people.

"Mom you don't understand-" she shrugged away her mother's hug.

"What has she done to scare you, Isabeau?" Clarke asked with confusion, clutching her cheeks as she pulled away just far enough to leverage a deep stare.

"She didn't force me to do anything! You don't understand!"

"No Bo," Clarke leaned in and warned, "She is eighteen and you are fifteen."

"I'm a week away from sixteen." Bo leaned in too, "You know this is wrong." she pleaded to no avail.

…

The dirt was hard beneath her knees, she found the sentiment ironic. Previous encounters had always left her curious of the dirt and ground, before it was a sentiment of the softness and potential she had always seen deep within that damned and wretched daughter of trees, the way it moulded and formed beneath her otherwise callous and unforgiving hands.

Now the ground was hard and intimidating, much like its people.

"-Today the Ice declared an act of war against our clan, against my daughter," she heard the commander's voice circle above her. "against your Hedatu." she roared to the baying crowd.

Tamsin closed her eyes and smirked, these people didn't scare her. As her father bore his last breath at their hands, so would she. If not today, then another; but it was most definitely a case of when rather than whether.

"Do I say something to amuse you?" Lexa kneeled before her and growled, the crowd fell silent as they watched on baited breath.

Tamsin didn't meet her dark stare out of obeyence, she did so out of humour, "She will never forgive you." she almost, almost laughed.

Lexa blinked and steadied herself, eighteen and this warrior laughed in the face of a hundred lashes, a hundred if she lasted that long. "The Ice Queen does not scare me." she leaned in close, grabbing the back of her loose hair. "Nor did your father."

"I was referring to Isabeau." Tamsin panted, her chin defiantly high and her glare astute.

"Maybe so," Lexa nodded thoughtfully. "I don't know what took place at the waters, but let us be clear of this, you sealed your fate the moment you treaded bounds I warned you not to tread."

"I never was one for warnings, Heda." Tamsin's defiant stare faltered if only for a second, short enough to not lose composure, long enough for Lexa to see. "But then again, you aren't much for the warnings of council either."

"Tie her to the whipping post." Lexa called to her guard, standing from her dirtied knee as she tried to not let the weight of words rest on her shoulders.

Guards with masks foreign to any Tamsin had seen before dragged her to her feet, the searing pain in her ribs was a pain she could handle, but the timid eyes of a free starling that watched her from afar made her ache in a way she hadn't ached before.

She did not love Isabeau, she did not love the way she ran her fingers across the barks of trees, or asked the horses of their troubles. She did not love the way the wildest of things tamed the untamable beasts. She especially didn't love the way she stared at the moon with renewed affections every time it bloomed in full.

She didn't love Bo, but the feelings that fluttered in the tips of her fingers and the steam of her breath that she so often set fire to were the closest to it.

She accepted her fate and put up no fight as they wrapped her hands around the post, it was bloodied and smelt of earth and iron, warning her senses of the fate met by those whose had came before.

Then a noise reached her ears, a noise that filled her with hatred.

She hated the way Bo challenged the way of the world, the way she felt more than the world had ever entitled her to feel. The way she allowed those feelings and emotions to manifest and impose themselves on others, others who did not have the privilege of feeling such things. The way she could make a man fall to his knees and accept the sharp end of a sword, yet never allow such an honorable sacrifice to be made.

In this moment she felt the pinnacle of her hatred, the very apex of loathing for the wretched daughter of trees, all on that one syllable.

"No." Bo called from the crowd, she ran between Ice and Ground, her palms shaking and dirty as she held them to her mother.

"Isabeau-" Lexa gritted her teeth and tightened her hold on the whip.

"No!" she roared, eyes so brilliant and furious they could set fire to the world around them. "Please."

They stood and stared at one another for what felt like eternity, their blood the same but the heart that pumped it from their fingers to their toes entirely different.

Lexa's face lacked even the slightest of expression, her eyes were hollow and her chin was high, necessity over familiarity.

"Heda," Bo kneeled before her mother. "I beg you, show the Ice Nation how much higher we are, show them how mighty we can be and release her."

Lexa felt every eye of every clansman boring into her as if they could see the very metals of her soul; forgiveness was weakness, they would not live longer enough to make it back to their quarters if she allowed Tamsin to walk free. That she knew, and it was a truth she spared her young.

"The Hedatu is in shock." Lexa called to their people, "Take her away." she swiftly ordered the guard, shame riddled in every nerve of her body as she pulled back the whip over her shoulder to lay lesson into Tamsin's bones.

"Fa er ai drein." Bo spoke up quietly as burly arms pulled at her before shaking off their grip.

"Isabeau-" Lexa warned, her eyes wide and her spirit frightened. "Dont…"

"Fa er," she growled defiantly, stepping closer to her mother. "Ai drein."

The crowds grew quiet enough to hear the whip fall from the Commander's hand.

"You stupid girl, what have you done." Lexa whispered, her brow heavy and her spirit sea-sick against the tide of consequence.

"Lexa!" Clarke yelled from the crowd and put the world back into motion, clawing and straining to get past the guards who held her back. "Don't you dare let her!"

"The Hedatu has spoken, release the prisoner." General Mofi called, raising his hand to the crowd.

"What's happening?" Tamsin asked Indra as she cut the rope that bound her wrists, sending her falling to the ground.

Her eyes were distant and her jaw was tight, "In our culture, one may trade places with their beloved and bare the weight of their punishment you undeserving fool." she growled, "For her, I will bleed." she repeated in English.

"Wait-" Tamsin suddenly came to life, the muscles in her neck and shoulders straining as guards pulled her away from the pole. Bo stepped closer, tentative and slow, careful to show this wild thing she meant no harm, her ability to capture and tame wild creatures had turned from a coincidence into a habit, and a habit into a tendency. One that was both brilliant and dangerous. "How could you do this? Make me bare this dishonour?" Tamsin nearly heaved with anguish and offence.

"Because," she whispered so innocently, wiping her eye with the corner of her sleeve. "Sometimes we have to hurt to protect the things we love."

"You aren't the hero of this story, I'm not some _thing_ you can salvage from fate and put on your bookshelf." she seethed.

Bo laughed, and in a moment of agonising truth it was the sweetest relief that could have been offered. "I doubt you would fit on my bookshelf, you're a very tall and broad thing to salvage." she whispered, tucking a tendril of hair behind the barbarous creature before her.

"I don't love you," Tamsin lowered her voice, "I don't and I won't because I can't, you will bleed for nothing." she tried to reason with her.

"I know." Bo nodded, fiddling with her sleeve. "Take her away, somewhere she can't see." she ordered the guards.

"Hedatu, she must watch; such is the fate of the dishonoured." General Mofi stepped round her to explain.

"Then take her somewhere that I can't see." she relented as more men than she could count dragged her away.

She roared and fought and clawed like the wildest of beasts as they dragged her away from sights far from Bo's.

"Mama…" she breathed as she turned on her heel to face another set of disbelieving eyes.

"How could you?" Lexa silently mouthed, anger and rage and sadness and fear all bubbling, all simmering beneath her skin. "You would make me do this? Your own mother?"

Bo flew at the Commander and for a moment they held each other, for a moment she was as small as she ever was and Lexa was a mother as she was the night in the watch tower with her restless newborn babe.

"Mama you don't have to watch." she tried.

"You foolish girl," Lexa shook her head, clutching at her young. "Only a higher can hold the whip, and you are the second highest amongst our people."

"After you." Bo closed her eyes and shrivelled, suddenly understanding the unforgivable predicament she had put Lexa in.

"After me." Lexa wound her jaw. "I must do this…"

"I won't ask you not to, Ma." Bo stood straight, postured her shoulders just the way her mama had always taught her.

"And that is the problem!" she finally shouted.

Bo stayed quiet, her face pressed against her mother's shoulder. "Be strong." she pleaded, "For our people."

"Take her round the post." Lexa quietly forced the words from a part of her chest that refused to let them go, still clutching her daughter.

…

Lexa dug her feet in the ground, suddenly her people weren't baying or screaming for blood, they were silent and pensive, there out of obligation rather than desire.

"Isabeau, Daughter of Trees. You will bare one hundred lashes on the behalf of a beloved for the act of high treason." Lexa's voice shook, she did not dare look for Clarke's face for fear of eternal unforgiveness. Instead she was faced with a worser sight, her daughter's bare back as she knelt bound to the whipping post.

The first whip came down and welted the skin, she was careful and precise, methodical in her action. The vomit rose to the back of Lexa's throat.

The tenth whip came from a shaking hand, it wrapped itself around Bo's side and split the skin, a muffled squeal left her closed mouth. Lexa stopped, her head lolling in shame whilst her body swayed like a leaf in the breeze.

"Keep going." Bo demanded from the post once she caught her breath, bloodied and strong, stronger than she was ever allowed to be.

Ninety-nine came half an hour later, her back was welted and split, a battlefield of learning the hard-way. She managed to let a whimper leave her lips, she was thankful for the rope that had stopped her collapsing long ago back at thirty-seven. It was strong and the burn against her wrists stopped her from passing out, it kept her focused on the task at hand as all things fit for purpose should.

The hundredth came with a bead of sweat that finally dripped from her brow, the rope finally failed in it's purpose and she slipped into warmer depth and her body fell limp against the post.

…

Time held no measure after she began to stir, she couldn't be sure if minutes or hours had passed. The room smelt of disinfectant and chrome, although a familiar scent lingered, like a mix of mint and sage leaves.

Sound came into focus, at first it was muffled like she was under water but then she picked up the familiar sting of the Heda's tone.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cut her from ear to ear and drain her like a pig for feast." Lexa paced around the room, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

"It wasn't her that put your daughter in-"

"Don't, Mom." Bo coughed from the table, wincing as the wounds on her back ached from the strain.

"Bo," Clarke rushed to her side, brushing hair out of her face. "How could you do that to us?"

"Don't blame Ma," she managed, opening her eyes just enough for the room to come into focus. "I gave her no choice."

"Don't try to protect me from your mother's wrath, you've done enough saving for today." Lexa interrupted, making quick work of the distance that separated them to lift water to her lips. "You have broken my heart Isabeau." her voice trembled.

For a moment Bo searched through the sands of time for an inkling or suggestion of a familiar memory whilst she drank, in sixteen years she had never so much as witnessed her mother wince let alone weep.

"I'm sorry Mama," she pleaded, eyes wide and bright.

"Its I who begs for your forgiveness…" she wept, looking away as tears dribbled down her cheeks.

"Lex…" Clarke grabbed her hand, "Hey come on," she tried.

"No." Lexa shook her head, "I gave her callouses and put welts on her back, I stole the clouds from her spirit and tied her to lead."

"Ma I'm right here." Bo waved, before wincing once again. "Please stop." she begged as guilt hung like a weight around her neck at seeing the mighty Heda weep.

"I will never forgive myself for tonight," Lexa glanced to her side and blinked away any facet of emotion. "That will be your punishment for all of your days to come."

"Really? I kinda think you got me good with the hundred lashes, Ma."

Clarke shoved Bo's arm and bit away a smirk, "It's good to see your sense of humour is intact, Kiddo." she mused.

"Where's Tamsin?"

Lexa made no effort to hide her disdain, "The Ice Princess left with her escort, she is to never return to these lands."

"Ma!" Bo heaved, trying to sit from the bed. Her efforts were wasted, Lexa was quicker and stronger and pinned her back down before she could move.

"She left of her own choice Isabeau," Lexa pressed her forehead against her daughter's, holding her to the bed until she stopped fighting. "She was right, you bled for nothing."

"No, I didn't." Bo fought back the burn in her throat, "You wouldn't understand." she simmered, turning her head to stare away from her mothers.

"I know what it's like..." Clarke piped in, sweeping back her daughter's hair with tender strokes. "I fell in love when I was young, it was perfect and whole and it made me feel important in a way I'd never felt important before," she explained. "and when it went wrong, I tried so hard to fix everything that I never stopped for a second and wondered whether defending them made me just as bad. I loved them and I didn't care…"

"That's nothing like this," Bo shook her head. "You got Ma in the end."

"This was before your mother, a Sky-boy called Finn."

Suddenly, Bo's interested was piqued.

"A Sky-boy? What happened?"

"Let us not discuss this now." Lexa shifted uncomfortably.

"Your Ma is right, I need to get in there and take a look at your back." Clarke nodded, standing from her seat to pull on a set of latex gloves. "This is going to hurt…"

"Great, for a minute there I thought something was going to be easy today." Bo sighed.

Bo tried to roll on her tummy, she eased herself onto her side and gasped little breaths as the flesh of her back stung against the movement and air.

"It's okay," Lexa quickly stopped her movements, "I've got you." she whispered, the closest to tenderly she had ever been.

"Mama," Bo wept, allowing her hands to slowly roll her over.

"I know." Lexa nodded, "A honon te hodnes."

"It hurts, all of it."

"I've got you." Lexa hummed, "I will always have you."

Clarke was methodical and fast, she wiped away the blood and dirt with clear spirit, Bo bucked and twisted and yelped and cried but these were necessary pains, both the sting on her skin and the ache in her heart.

Lexa placed her hands on Bo's cheeks and held her still, "When you were a babe, I would hold your cheeks like this whilst you cried and stare at you for what felt like eternity, your mother always thought it strange, but some nights it was all that soothed you."

Clarke dabbed the ointment onto the angry wounds, "It's true," she added, "I'd wake up and she would have you in her lap with your face in her palms and you would both just stare at each other like you were having this conversation I couldn't hear." she mused.

"Maybe we were." Bo panted through gritted teeth.

"We did, I remember those conversations fondly."

"What did we talk about?"

"I warned you about strangers from far away lands, how to guard your heart from them and their queer customs, and you warned me that my meddling would be my downfall. Neither of us appeared to have listened."

"Like mother like daughter." Bo forced a smile.

"Hey," Clarke looked down at them both, "I was a catch."

"The greatest." Lexa smiled, squeezing Bo's cheeks. "Look at this starling we made, so reckless and defiant."

"Like mother like daughter." Clarke sighed, returning back to putting her daughter back together.

"Perhaps you aren't the only ones who should have listened to warning." A voice piped up from the tent.

Indra tackled the intruder to the floor, the sharp end of her blade pointing under the soft flesh of her chin. "Heda, I beg for the honour of ending her fight myself." she hissed at the Commander an inch from Tamsin's nose.

"Leave us."

"But Heda,"

"I said leave us!" Lexa ordered, dismissing the general with a wave of her hand.

Indra grunted and nodded her head, rising from the ground. "Hedatu, the people speak of your great honour; I amongst them." she bowed her head.

"Thanks Indra, for what it's worth I was hoping you'd at least land another few punches." Bo mumbled, glancing away.

Tamsin stood and dusted herself off, taking a step towards where a small starling lay with angry criss crosses on her wings.

"Hey loser."

"Hey dishonoured." she quietly answered back, hissing once again as Clarke pressed the ointment into her back with rougher ministrations. "Mom?"

"Sorry Honey," she shook her head. "Just trying to keep myself focused."

"My uncle taught me the art of medicine, I can help." Tamsin offered, her chin still high but the arrogance long gone.

"I warned you never to return." Lexa hissed, her boot flying through the air to kick out her legs from behind.

Tamsin quickly turned and shifted her body weight, holding the Commander in a headlock with a vice like grip. "I told you I'm not good with warnings, I haven't come to fight." the Valkyrie warned, struggling against the woman beneath her arm.

Lexa quickly threw the girl over her shoulders and onto the ground. "Then for tonight, we shall call truce." she seethed, shaking off the urge to claim her right to end Tamsin's fight, "But if you hurt my daughter, our customs and ways of honour will not stop me from snapping every bone in your body." she hissed.

"Maybe it's best if we leave them for a little while." Clarke quickly suggested, dragging the Commander out of the tent flaps by her waist.

"Thanks Mom." Bo nodded, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Tamsin shifted her weight from foot to foot, staring at the ceiling like the cheat notes for this test were written in the rafters.

"Hi you." Tamsin finally whispered.

"Hey you."

"So, how's the whole hundred lashes treating you?" Tamsin forced herself to smile for Bo's sake, picking up where Clarke left off and with gentle blots to her wounds.

"Better than the time you threw me in a patch of nettles when we were kids."

"Well, you definitely deserved that, you filled my boots with pig slurry."

"So worth it." Bo laughed, before a gasp caught her throat and made her wince from the sting. "So how is the dishonour treating you?" she changed the subject.

Tamsin squeezed the cloth in her hands and bit her lip until the taste of iron tickled her tongue. "I can't bare seeing you hurt like this."

"I know," Bo tiredly mused. "I knew you hadn't left, you were hiding from my Ma in the thickets all along."

"How can you be so sure?" Tamsin raised an eyebrow, pulling a chair to sit before her starling and wipe the sweat from her brow.

"I could smell mint leaves."

Rough calloused hands tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear whilst she closed her eyes; they were nervous and shaky, unsure on how to ever be gentle with something so fragile.

"I couldn't bare to leave, I wanted to, but I just couldn't." she looked to the floor with shame.

"I thought you were never coming back." Bo finally wept, pressing the backs of her hands against her tears desperately.

"I will always come back."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I don't love you." Bo looked up with confusion from heavy eyelids; she opened her lips to speak but Tamsin began to stroke her head. "Don't speak," she shook her head, "Just rest."

"Then tell me what bothers you." Bo exhaustedly sighed, wincing into the palm that cradled her cheek.

Tamsin's eyes were big and green and for once, if only once, pure in their ministrations. She wasn't a woman of simple pleasures, but watching her second sleep in her palm was as close to simple as pleasure got for her.

"I don't love you." she reiterated on uncertain plump lips, "I don't love the way you burden yourself with the world's troubles nor do I love the way you insist and rely on your morals and ways, I don't love the way you look at me with eyes that set me on fire, or the way you climb trees like you're made of ivy. Your smile isn't enough to bring me home from the toils of war and the way you hold my shoulders when we ride through the thickets doesn't make me nervous. I don't love you, Isabeau."

Bo nodded her head in disappointment, her eyes still closed and her lips curled into a wobbled frown that warned of tears that could follow.

"You are sixteen and I do not love you, but one day, one day I might." Tamsin whispered, pressing her lips softly against her starling's, again and again until her poison made the Ice girl's head spin.

"I don't love you either." Bo smiled.

"Good, don't." Tamsin smirked, pressing into her lips once again. "Never, ever. For as long as you live." she laughed between featherlight kisses.

"I'm terrible with warnings."

"I know."


	10. Throwback: Lexa Goes To War

**AN: You wanted a throwback? Don't say I didn't give the people cake…**

She thought she would be more nervous, more anxious of this day's doomed arrival; the day war cries would wake them from their gentlest of slumbers and Lexa would ride off into battle to defend their lands. Instead, she was angry, so righteously furious with the life imposed upon them and their smallest wild thing.

The candlelight flickered around their tent, the sound of warriors readying for glorious battle and the cries of the women and families they were leaving behind all melted and melded together into a drone outside that Clarke didn't care to listen to. Instead, she wondered if maybe in another world, in another life, a farmer and an artist were wrapped in one another's arms unaware of these burdens and crosses her and her warlord bare.

"Clarke…" Lexa interrupted her brooding with her own. "It's time."

She was tall and broad, taller and broader than she was in times of peace; like the mere mention of swords and arrows made her swell inside with substance unknown. braided hair and warpaint blacker than coal smeared above her eyes and around cheeks methodically hid the traces of hesitance.

She was a paradox; tools of death and war strapped to her thighs and waist, and a tiny daughter with eyes as brown as her own asleep and bundled in her arms. The only move she made after a brief lull of still washed through them was the gentlest of shuffles to readjust the child in her arms, deep in slumber and unaware of these unbearable responsibilities.

"You can't take her with you, you know that right?" Clarke finally spoke up, nodding her head down to where Lexa held a starling of a child against her chest.

"Do not grieve for the living, Clarke." she whispered knowingly, stepping forward to kiss the crown of Clarke's blonde hair.

"We're too young for this, for goodbyes." she finally wept, hands instinctively rubbing her stomach. "How can you leave us?" her voice cracked.

"This isn't goodbye." she tensed her jaw, she was poised and stanced and silent, pondering how to answer such a question she'd never posed before. "I don't know how I suffer such pain, but I do." she licked the dry and salt of her lips, "So you and our daughter may never know war at our doorstep." her calloused hand swiped over the hip of her houmon whilst the other held their toddler tight to her body.

"I've led my people into war too, I know what it's like out there, the thought of you," a pause washed over her, along with the clench of her eyes. "I can't bare the thought of them hurting you." she whispered, nuzzling her nose into staunch shoulders. "I wish I could go with you, like before."

"If I never have to bare the sight of you on a battlefield again it'll still be too soon," she shook her head in disagreement, smoothing down hair spun from stars. "You must understand that I do these things for you both, for our people." the war horn outside interrupted their reverie with it's long wailing moan, "It's time." Lexa swallowed, holding her girls strong in her arms as the horn droned on and on, calling her away far from her young family like the tide pulling the sea away from the land it lapped upon.

"If you take the east and south ridges and launch an attack, you'll take them from behind and back them into the valleys, they'll have to fight uphill to get through your front ranks." Clarke whispered, clutching her wife's neck.

"You studied the maps?"

"Of course I did." Clarke traced her finger over the extensions of her wife, the dark coat that hung haphazardly open, the soft red that flown from her pauldron. "I once beat you, remember." she mused.

"Seeing you mother my young, I forget how strong a warrior and leader you are sometimes." Lexa sighed. "I'll take note of your council."

"Just shut up and take note of this," Clarke sighed, her hand finding the soft baby curls at the nape of Lexa's neck whilst her lips and tongue painted stars for her warrior to follow home back to her.

Gentle fingers worked shoulders rigid and stiff, they were always stiff; but nerve by nerve they unwound by the unspoken gentle orders of her sky girl's lips and command of her fingers, until her tongue gently danced against the moon and put the midnight silhouettes of oak trees in Clarke's gut.

She pulled away, if only to kiss their sleeping daughter's deliciously soft cheeks one last time. "I love you, little thing. Stay like this until I am home." she whispered so quietly to her daughter Clarke wondered whether she had heard her at all. "Clarke," she said nervously, her eyes dancing between her soft pink lips and pale gold hair, "I want you to know how much-"

"Don't say it." she half pleaded, readjusting their sleeping babe in her arms. "Tell me when you're home, when I can keep you in bed."

Lexa followed her gaze and nodded with something as close to sympathy as she could muster. "When I'm home we will take a trip, just the three of us-"

"Heda, we must ride now, the Ice Nation are heading for Neton-ka!" Nyko called through the tent and with that Lexa was gone, running off to waltz with her other lover, the most dangerous of the Four Horsemen.

…

It took half a day for them to ride out, two days to wait for the droves of Ice to enter the neck of the valleys and two seconds for their Commander to order them to war with instruction to spare no life and show no mercy.

Lexa was fast and ruthless, faster than the stories ever gave her credit for and more ruthless than she would ever allow her girls to know her to be. Her skin was mottled with blood like a black speckle gelding, spatters from swipes of her blade and smears from her marred hands; the cloak of night had began to descend over them, the moonlight was her love and the mouth of the forest she knew expertly was their favourite place to dance, there was more than optimism left.

"Take your sky-people over the ridges and get behind their ranks," she ordered Octavia, offering a forearm to pull her from the ground where the sky-grounder found herself finishing an enemy boy that she pulled from his horse. Her face was proud yet indifferent as she accepted the outreached arm, the cat who caught the mouse and laid it at its master's' feet. "Follow the ridges to the base of the valleys, stay low when you are there and don't draw too much attention."

"May we meet again, Commander" she nodded, mounting her mare and driving her feet into its side.

"May we meet again, Octavia of the Sky People." Lexa nodded under her breath.

"We are losing too many warriors!" Indra called from a short length of blood splattered field; her sword sheathed to the hilt in Ice Nation flesh, her boot leveraged against the body to twist her blade free before plowing her blade deeper into the neck of an over-zealous second who advanced too close, too young to touch his boots on this soil; too old to send home to his mother. "_Yu gonplei ste odon_." she whispered a small and rare courtesy.

The battlefield wasn't a place for hope or optimism, it was blood and plans and facts and toil. They knew these lands and terrain, knew the which-way of the wind and the reverb of the valleys; but yet the swarms and droves drew further into their ranks, brothers and sisters and friends lay littered like leaves in Autumn. Lexa knew there was no winning, there was never winning. There was simply surviving long enough to return back next time to sacrifice more of their brave in the name of their customs and ways.

"Ride with me," Lexa said tersely in their tongue, her roan trotting patiently on the spot as he waited for her heels to guide him further into battle. "If we take their king, the rest will fall and retreat."

"_Heda,_" Indra bowed her head, her troubles and uncertainty pounding the ground foot by foot.

"Now is not the time for council, speak quickly." with lightening reflexes her blade left her hip and found itself lodged in the chest of a would be enemy-sniper crouched in the thickets. "**Quicker**." she turned to correct herself, narrowing her gaze as war droned on around them.

"Your fight cannot end on this battlefield, it won't!" Indra chewed, an inch and a mile outside of the tersity and formality she lived within; thick with memories of the defiant orphan of her dearest friends, the reckless second, the young Heda who possessed gravel and bite. "...It is, it is a price I am willing to pay with my life, Heda." Indra called up to the commander as she beckoned her horse, her eyes heavy with blood oath and her chest heaving with honour. "The Serpent-King hides too deep into the neck of the valley and you are too great a target to the Ice, I will ride and your fight will be spared."

"We will ride, and we will both return to our people." Lexa corrected her quietly, "I am your heda, do you doubt my capability?" she cocked her head, as daring as she always was.

"May the great spirit be on our side." Indra muttered.

…

"How are you holding up?" Raven called, the shuffle of her limp had already announced her presence in her home before she spoke, of all the people who could have disturbed her sanctuary, she was glad it was Raven. She had a way with words, her relationship with them was an honest, if not brutal one.

"Okay," Clarke lied, turning away from her kicking toddler to smile at her newly-found company. "It's been a few days since I've had another grown up to talk to, I think I'm starting to forget what English sounds like."

"Grown up?" Raven raised her eyebrow, shuffling closer into her quarters. "You're twenty; still a kid yourself, if you ask me we all are." she offered a sad smile for a sad sentiment.

Quiet washed over them and the place they called home, it had done for all the days their friends and people had left. A sickening, awful quiet that drove Clarke insane all hours of the day. The only distraction was the infirm and families Clarke was left to lead and care for, and the sound of pattering feet against the floor, trinkets and toys picked up and put down in an order only Bo and her little pudgy hands knew.

Somewhere between the fall, the love, the blood on her hands, the ring on her finger, a baby, she forgot how young she was. Well, she pretended she forgot; sometimes so well she convinced both herself and Lexa. But it was always there, always an ache and a throb of a life unlived.

"I'm a wife, a mother, a leader…" she sighed, plumping a cushion for Raven to sit on which she gladly accepted. "At any moment someone could walk through that door and tell me I'm a widow too. Believe me, I wish I was still a kid."

"I take it you've not heard from your Mom or Lexa?" Raven pried, picking up the smallest heda; somehow the world seemed less bitter and unforgiving with a child in your arms, especially a child as beautiful as theirs. "I bet you're missing your mama too, huh?" Raven dropped her eyes, a dribbling chin and big brown eyes her view. Bo babbled what was possibly an agreement but probably the result of something of less importance and reached out her small little palms to the face in front of her.

"I've not heard anything from Lexa." Clarke swallowed, toying with a thread on her shirt. "It's the not hearing that's driving me crazy."

"Not hearing is better than hearing bad news." Raven reasoned. "What about Abby?"

"Malik rode back to get supplies yesterday, she's busy, and busy means casualties being brought to the outposts."

"Mo-mom" Bo blurted, her little lips curled as she tried to piece together one of her two favourite words with chubby outstretched arms for Clarke; the kindest interruption imaginable for her brooding. "Ma-ma?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed and eyes desperate.

"Hey little one," her mother smiled, taking her against her body. "I miss her too, but when she get's home - you're gonna get so bored of her carrying you around everywhere you'll be hiding from her." she forced a little laugh, kissing the bridge of her nose and softs of her eyelids. "She'll be home soon."

…

He was dead.

For years, the stories of the great King Leonartis had spread through lands, crossed waters and rivers and snow to reach their destinations; tales of how he rode through glorious battle with a sea of fallen enemies beneath his feet, felled with the blow of his hammer, how quick and quiet and cunning his attack was.

The great King Leonartis, and now, he was dead; his great fight done.

Their horses pounded the ground, it was as if they knew from the very bay tips of their manes to the hard of their hoofs the urgency of this speed.

"We must seek help at the outpost…" Indra muttered, her eyes flitting between the trees they weaved between and the blood that spread like watercolour across Lexa's gut.

"No," she ordered, breathless. "If I am seen in this state and word spreads to the Ice, it will do the opposite. They will not stop until they have broke our ranks and avenged their king." she heaved and lied, a wince radiating through her.

It had happened as quickly as the stories gave him credit for, a dagger haphazardly jabbed into her gut; his fist still tight around the knurles of a blade with the last of his breath, a blade neither of them saw him conceal. "In death, we shall know truce." he whispered with a smile, before Indra drove metal into the soft palate beneath his chin.

"You will not make it." Indra barked, kicking her feet a little harder. "I beg you, seek the sky-healer at the outpost."

"I am still the heda," Lexa gritted her teeth with pain and defiance, "do you doubt my capability?"

"Never," Indra shook her head, the tip of her lips between the gnash of her teeth. "It is your sensibilities I doubt Aleksia, it will take hours to reach Tondc!"

"It would seem you have more in common with Clarke than you care to admit." Lexa lightened her tone, her look softening at the use of her full name, known only to them and those long in the grave. "Tell me, Indra, do you think she would have approved?" she asked for an answer she wasn't sure she wanted, her tone melting and slipping between terse and something else.

"If we waste time riding to Tondc you can ask her yourself!" Indra snapped, as brash and heavy and indignant as she ever was. "If your mother was still here-"

"She is not." Lexa cut her off, her colour growing off as they pounded through the forest with expert speed. "So tell me, would she have approved?"

…

It was Indra's voice she heard first, her feet pounded as fast as they've ever pounded before to meet the chaos and shouts at the gates with Raven left to limp after her with a starling juggled in her hands. The world was slow and for a moment Clarke existed outside of it, like an old and gnarled tree in a part of the forest that had simply always been, an old and gnarled tree that watched the seasons meld together as seconds roll into minutes.

They rode into the open, Indra panting and desperate and shouting at any and all who would listen. Lexa's roan trotted further, further and further with no tight tug at the reign or commander tall on his back. Instead she was slumped, her head low and her chest barely rising.

"Lexa?" Clarke stumbled forward.

She slid from her seat and tumbled far to the ground, the thud cut through the din, through Clarke's skin and nerves and bone and sickened her.

Like a dying beast taking its last gasps her eyes opened, two orbs of green amongst the blood and dirt and coal of her face, looking up and around for the girl who skimmed stars out into the ocean of night for her to follow home.

"Lex, baby." Clarke broke, she rushed forward, to the side of a great and still lion that heaved and shuddered with it's face in the dirt. "It's going to be okay, we're going to fix you up, I promise," she stumbled and fell and muttered her words, "I'm going to fix you up, okay?"

Her lips pursed and pulled at the corners, though no sound came, she tried again, licking the salt of her lips as her voice quivered and trembled without shape or form. "I," she tried, "I came home." she whispered.

"Thank you," Clarke whispered back.

She was dying, she felt it in the tips of fingers, in the numb and still that washed over her. Clarke was gentle, a cloud rolling over her skin and trying so desperately to shield her from the great all-seeing sun; too stubborn and unwilling to see reason or fact.

Indra watched her, watched them, watched the way the existed within one another as she stood waiting for instruction from the healer. It embarrassed her to stare, to give merit and metric to the way Clarke hummed and hushed the highest of her people, but she knew. It angered her, infuriated her even, but she _knew_ why Lexa rode to this place.

"Get the stretcher, we need to get her on the table now!" Clarke shouted at the apprenticing medics and anyone else who would listen, they scurried in all directions to get what would be necessary. "Why didn't you take her to the outpost!" Clarke heaved in Indra's direction, pulling her brooding warlord into her lap to stroke her hair.

Lexa grabbed her hand, her calloused and dirty hand laying so gently over Clarke's. It took everything and nothing and meant the world; she did her best to squeeze and stared with languid eyes that were so happy to have made it home to them, so in awe of the starling they made together.

"I," Indra paused, collected herself, worked foot to foot until her words would leave her lips. "I told her to ride to the outpost but she would not listen to reason!" she bit, angry with herself and with Lexa. "She has came home, as her mother too came home from Verdün." she admitted with defeat, circling and walking back and forth like a caged beast.

"What do you mean?" Clarke furled her brow, she stared down, watched the shallow little breaths leaving Lexa's lips, her staunch shoulders suddenly so small in her arms and eyes so sad, so sad and so happy that she made it home. "Your mom died after the Battle of Verdün?" she whispered so quietly down to her wife.

Lexa smiled, it was weak and formed mostly by the sparkle in her eyes but it was the smile she used to surrender to her wife, the one that whispered oh please, life is too short for these arguments and you are too beautiful.

Lexa's eyes flitted, moved and searched and finally found the moon of her life. She sat on Raven's hip, so beautiful, too beautiful to be hers; though her temper and strength of will told a different story. Bo scrubbed her eyes and yawned, it took only a second for her to recognise the wild beast her mother nursed in her lap. "Ma-ma!" she shouted with joy, wriggling and twisting in Raven's arms.

"We almost had it all, Clarke of the Sky People." she rasped.

"Almost isn't enough."

…

She worked furiously, the rhythm of her anger and tick of her fury took over her. "I know you can hear me," she muttered, slicing her shirt open with a steady drag of her knife. "I was seventeen when I married you, seventeen and looked to as this… _leader_, this person who could just fix things; but you saw me, the real me, and you loved me anyway." she cleaned the wound, assessed, worked whilst Indra watched on quietly. "You promised we'd be together for all of our lives…" she trailed off, tempering her volume which grew louder and threatened to melt into a wail. "All of our lives, Lexa." she forced a whisper. "So I need your spirit to stay where it is, okay?"

Lexa's body was still, her chest barely rising from each fall, skin pale and cold and bruised.

Clarke opened the wound with the tip of her scalpel whilst the hands of nervous and trembling apprentices fumbled around the wound with gauze, until Indra exploded, rough and choppy like the river at dawn she pulled and pushed them away. "Trembling fools! You are undeserving of the title of healers!" she snapped, snatching the gauze and applying with steady force, stenting the bleed. "Word has been sent to your mother, she set off with our fastest riders not long after we reached Neton'ka; she will be here soon."

"Thank you," Clarke nodded, tear stained and desperate. "Keep holding, press as hard as you can."

She let out a noise that was somewhere between a grunt and snort, nodding her head.

"Please don't die Lex," she whispered, starting work on the deepest rupture with delicate hands. "I can't remember the last time I said I love you, and if you leave, all I'll have are the days I wasted not telling you." tears hung like thick dew drops that she refused to let fall, there would be time for crying, whatever the outcome.

"Clarke," Indra shuffled uncomfortably, her eyes suddenly glued to the sky-girl, she stared in a way that made Clarke burn, distracted her from the task at hand.

"We're nearly there, just hold on…" Clarke continued to hush and comfort, ignoring the general in front of her. Lexa's wound was perfect and complex, a formidable adversary. The cut was deep and grazed the gastric artery like a pin that had pressed against a balloon and somehow not caused it to completely burst, one slip, one false move; Clarke couldn't bare the idea.

"Clarke!" Indra fought for her attention once again.

Her eyes shot up, her shoulders set in a way her wife had tutored her so graciously. "Whatever it is, I have my hand inside of her, stitching her back together. If my hand slips, if I mess up; she _will_ die so do me a favour, whatever you need to tell me can wait until I'm not inside of her body." she ordered, busying herself with the same inch of gristle and flesh to stitch back together.

She knew what troubled Indra, she felt cramps, the heat and stickiness over and between her skin, but it could wait. It _had_ to wait. She made this decision, she would have to make this decision every day, that would be the cost for all the days to come with her brooding warlord.

…

One hour and sixteen minutes later, that's how long it took for Clarke to navigate the deepest depths of her wife's anatomy and suture the most essential parts back together, like an unstable bomb she needed to unwire whilst wearing oven mitts.

One hour and sixteen minutes for her to pull away her clamps and watch what little blood Lexa had left pump as it had always done, no flooding, no leaking. Like an engine finally revved to life.

Sometimes; people died, but not today, today she dragged her wife from God's grasps, and Lexa would live to tell the tale. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Clarke lifted her gaze to Indra, suddenly able to breathe again. "Hook her up to two more bags of O-neg and help me close her up." she called over her shoulder to one of her apprentices, a sheepish girl who was suddenly more sheepish than normal.

The cranks of the gate and the sound of pounding horses hooves signalled Abby and her medics return, Indra was thankful, more thankful than she would ever let anyone know.

"Clarke," Indra leaned in, her tone and breath was low and she grabbed her hand as Clarke moved to continue her work, her work which was now no longer critical. "You are bleeding." she softened.

"I have to finish up." Clarke ignored her, steeled her nerves and focused herself on the wild thing in front of her with tender, religious reverence. "It's probably just Lexa's blood…" she babbled and tried to make excuses.

"Clarke you are bleeding," Indra sighed and set her jaw, she wasn't good at these things, she wasn't good at gentle. "...between your thighs." she forced the bitter tang of the words off of her tongue.

Clarke looked down, it pooled at her feet, little puddles of could-have-beens and almost. Her thighs were sticky and warm and suddenly the world was tight around her chest again, "It's going to be okay." she stammered, "Indra you can't tell her, she doesn't know…" Clarke fumbled, apprenticing hands that were steel as iron for necessity took over her work and busied themselves with gauze and sutures. "Please don't tell her." Clarke begged with a quiet, child like naivety, moving aside.

Abby rushed through, her best medics swarming around Lexa like bees protecting the queen of their hive. The air was hot and sticky, too much blood, too much quiet.

"Clarke?" Abby asked tentatively, eyeing up the scene in front of her.

"It was too early, it just," she paused and clutched her stomach. "wasn't meant to be-" Abby wrapped her in every which way and held her tight and smoothed down her hair before the sentence could leave her throat, dewy tears finally fell and scolded her shoulder.

Clarke breathed, in and out, in and out. It was the only certainty she had in this moment, she pressed and leaned and held the shoulders that supported her, but the just weren't staunch enough, not quite broad or weighty in the ways that comforted her. "I can take care of this, just, save Lexa... please Mom."

"Oh Honey," Abby frowned, turning if only for a moment to watch the steady rhythm and vitals on the monitor attached to her daughter-in-law's chest. "You already did, you saved her Clarke. You did that." she squeezed, "Come on, let's go take care of you..."

…

Lexa couldn't be sure of how much time had passed, the artificial light of the room she found herself in gave her no metric of day or night either.

"Heda," Indra stifled a smile, suddenly upright and tall in her chair.

Lexa groaned and then coughed, she immediately recognised the white paper tunic she was clothed in as the work of her sky-woman. "That woman of mine, so stubborn, so amazing." she groaned a little more, closing her eyes, before quickly snapping them open again to look back around. "Where is she?"

"Heda…"

"Indra." Lexa gritted her teeth, immediately recognising the look in her eyes. "**Where is she?**"

"I'm here," Clarke smiled weakly from the door, she was dressed and out of bed. She too had been ordered to rest, but there were more pressing issues to hand, "Thank you for not dying." she added, Lexa shuffled and tried to pull herself up before a pair of lithe pale hands pressed her shoulders gently back into the pillows. "Rest," she whispered.

Lexa nodded to Indra, it was a thank you, an acknowledgement, and a dismissal. One that Indra returned, standing tall to take residence outside of the corridor.

"When were you going to tell me?" Lexa asked quietly once the door had closed without an ounce of malice or judgement in her voice, her eyes thick with concern.

"Who told you?"

"I knew, you had this glow in your cheeks… it's gone now." she whispered, clutching her hand. "Is it true?"

"Yes." Clarke answered, she climbed in the space beside her and burrowed her head beneath Lexa's chin. "Somethings," she whispered, clutching at her brooding warlord, " just aren't meant to be."

"There will be more." she promised, rubbing the spot on her back that seemed to relieve all of the troubles in her world.

Clarke cried and apologised, over and over. There was nothing to be said, nothing that could be said; sometimes the true casualties of war are the ones left at home. It was a truth that Lexa knew all too well. And so she held her, kissed her over and over in every spot her lips could grace.

Sometime had passed, necessary hours that they needed alone before Abby finally appeared at the door to give them both words.

"Two guards outside of your door Clarke..." she frowned, rubbing the sides of her head that ached with her daughter. "You promised you would rest, you _promised_." Abby reiterated as she checked over Lexa's stitches.

"You should have rested." Lexa lightly scolded the cloudling wrapped in her arms.

"You wouldn't have stayed in bed if I wasn't here," she raised her brow, poking and prodding along with her mother to check her handiwork.

Lexa gave her the smile, the one reserved for oh please, life is too short for these arguments and you are too beautiful; it was a smile Clarke couldn't argue with.

"You're healing, Clarke did a great job." Abby smiled, proud of the clean work made of the commander's gut. "If you two are well enough, there's a visitor to see you..." she nodded towards the door.

Bo wobbled and leaned against the frame, stickers and band-aids littering her skin that she had busied herself with from her grandmother's draw. "Ma-ma!" she grinned, the start of two teeth protruding from her gums as she wobbled and stepped towards the bed.

Abby swooped down, grabbing and placing her between the two before the urge overcame Lexa to leap from the bed and steal her tiniest sky-princess. It was hard to feel the realities of the world in her presence, hard to see anything other than the way her toes flexed and her grin widened.

"Thank you for taking care of your mom whilst I was away," Lexa nuzzled her cheek, gladly accepting the arms that wrapped around her neck whilst her eyes locked with Clarke's own.

"We're never letting you out of our sights again…" she swallowed, pressing her face into a free spot of shoulder that somehow still smelled of Lexa instead of disinfectant.

"Good, never do." Lexa conceded, she winced as she rolled to her side to face them both, to hold them to her chest and in her paws. Clarke's hands were quick, cradling her cheek and holding her arm.

"Are you okay?" she worried, helping her turn.

Even Bo in all her innocence knew to be gentle with Mama, not to jump or pull or play as she normally did with the older wild thing.

"We're all hurting Clarke," she conceded with a frown. "But I have my girls, and I have my home, and I have tomorrow. And it's enough."

"It's enough," Clarke nodded, pressing her lips against her commander's as their daughter curled between them, her diaper pressed into Lexa's chest and her head against Clarke's forearm. "I love you, for all of our tomorrows to come too."

"I love you Clarke of the Sky People, in this life and the next."

As if something that had coiled itself inside of her finally snapped, Clarke's kisses grew desperate, her lips and palm and fingertips touching every inch and dip of Lexa so reverently and gentle. "I love you, I love you so much." her voice quivered, "I was so scared…" she whispered.

"I know," Lexa answered on all accounts, holding the palm that pressed against her cheek. "Look at this starling we made, we go to war and nearly die and she's the one exhausted from her troubles." Lexa smiled, guiding their hands down to their tired daughter. "You must rest now too."

"Lexa-"

"Rest." she ordered, her fingers dancing over that familiar spot of her back. "You worry over us, it is my turn to worry over you."

Clarke pouted, it was unadulterated and untempered; but she laid her head down, her arms wrapping and snaking instinctively around their baby and her commander.

"Thank you," she whispered, exhaustion quickly pulling at her eyelids.

"What for?" Lexa asked gently, stroking her head.

"For coming home to us."


	11. Family Matters

**AN: To clarify; if you want a illustration of what Bo looks like-Google Zoey Deutch.**

It was hot; the weight of the room stuck and clung to them and neither could sleep. Clarke shifted and turned, fought to find a comfortable spot next to her brooding commander's sleeping figure; there was a growing bump now, sometimes she wondered if they even remembered how to do this, they were older and maybe not as wiser as they so often believed, but for now, it was hot and that was all she cared to think about.

"You think loud enough to wake the dead." Lexa rubbed the sleep from her eyes and rolled to her side. "What troubles you?"

"Just, everything," she sighed and tucked her head underneath the space beneath Lexa's chin. "We're older."

"And?"

"You haven't aged a day." Clarke nudged her side, wound her fingers into the lip of her shirt and rubbed a favourite spot on her hip. "But, do you think we can keep up with a baby? Bo is nearly the same age we were when she was born..."

"Please, don't remind me." Lexa almost shuddered, she swallowed and kept it together. Hands played with the bottom of her shirt, her own found a tender spot on Clarke's back, and she pondered her wife's precarious words. "We are not old, Clarke. We were just young the first time round."

"What if it's twins? Do we have enough room for twins?" she fretted.

"Don't say such things around Isabeau, you'll give her ideas."

"Lex, not this again," she stroked her head, "She's just gone for the Summer. Tamsin comes here every year. This trip was coming, you knew that."

"I know." Lexa nodded and settled. Her agreement to such a trip came at the behest of her wife and the pleading of her daughter, the days of Bo being too young to talk and disagree with her mother's will were long gone and Lexa missed them sorely. "I miss her." she admitted with a sigh.

"She's growing up, her and Tamsin-"

"Not tonight." Lexa warned her with a heavy brow, "I am not blind to these things, but please, not tonight."

"I miss her too, but, it might be another seventeen years before I get you alone to myself again..." the tides suddenly changed and feverish kisses were pressed to the commander's neck, along all the vital and crucial parts, collarbones included. "We're not too old for this right?" sparkling blue eyes devoured her whole, as young as they ever were.

Clarke found herself pressed down into the bed, and as if she were a ghost between these sheets Lexa was behind her with strong hands pawing; hungry and wanting.

"You're not as rusty as you look, Commander." Clarke playfully pushed herself back.

Lexa dove and nipped and kissed and grabbed, "I remember these things well." she growled, kissing a favourite spot.

…

Word was sent and Bo returned back to Tondc; Summer was at an end but it clung to the lands with the last of it's claws, the sun bled through the tree lines and it was a beautiful sight, she was glad to share it with beautiful company, though her mothers would disagree.

"Are you sure about this?" Tamsin rose her brow, tall on the back of her stallion.

She pulled at her horse's reins and they stopped for a moment, the sun tall in the trees and the sounds of Tondc faint on the horizon. "They've wanted an alliance from the day we met as children. Summer's aren't enough anymore; we are the same age they were when they married." Bo reached out and grabbed her hand, "I think my mom hates you because you remind her of herself." she whispered. "And I don't understand why, because you remind me of all the things I love most about her."

"You think she will let me wed her only daughter?"

Tamsin looked around, every which way than the pretty thing in front of her. These things had been decided long ago, and whilst Bo was new territory, persistent and true to her breeding; their alliance would be a strong one, strong enough to break the mountain that separated their warring lands.

"She'll do it for me, and if not for me, for the permanent alliance of our people." she nodded, it was thoughtful and a little nervous, as if she was convincing herself more than Tamsin. "One day you will be the Ice Queen and I will be the Heda, you're maybe the only person I could marry that's not beneath my station in the eyes of her generals, she knows that."

"You will have a sibling soon, what if you are passed over?"

"It doesn't work that way. The spirit chose me as it chose my mother," she rode further towards the camp, she noticed the look in Tamsin's eye. "Even if they did, I'm sure I will make a fine warrior for my Queen." she grinned, kicking her feet into her gelding's side.

"Damned Daughter of Trees." Tamsin shook her head, galloping after her between high thickets and low brambles as the sun began to set.

…

They ate and laughed and asked of the Summer past, ignoring the questions that bubbled of the unexpected guest at their table. Clarke was glowing and round and nearly there, and like the true tamer of wild things she brushed her fingers across Lexa's shoulder and gave her the tiny bit more resolve she needed to enjoy these tender moments for just a little longer.

"So," Clarke placed down her fork and Lexa nursed her glass. "When do you ride back home, Tamsin?" there was a little hope in her voice, a little hope that what would follow would not set her wife alight.

"Mom," Bo cleared her throat, "This Summer-"

"Gods above..." Lexa shook her head and closed her eyes.

"This Summer." Bo clawed back her own resolve, she found strength in the hand that worked her knee under the table and she was grateful for it. "It's made me realise some things…" she eyed Tamsin, devoured her whole, smiled and blinked and tried to find words.

"I recognise that look." Abby murmured, suddenly invisible once more as she chewed her food and eyed her own daughter.

"Say what you mean." Lexa refilled her cup, suddenly broader as if all the hairs on her body were stood on end. "You are the Hedatu, you are looked towards from our people and with such respect comes the responsibility to speak true."

"You've never liked me." Tamsin suddenly spoke, it took everything not to scowl but she saw the look in Bo's eyes, the worry that she would disappoint her mothers. There was little she could do to soften such a blow, but this tiny brave thing she could manage. "We've never exactly saw eye to eye," she softened and swallowed, carefully watching the commander's hands for a sudden attempt at her dagger. "Our alliance whilst fragile is a true one, you dislike me for all the reasons a mother should dislike a person. And I know I'm not enough for your daughter. I know I will never be enough and I know these things better than any at this table; but I will protect her until the stars fall from the sky."

"At this table that might be sooner than you think."

"Mom," Clarke eyed Abby quietly, "Carry on Tamsin."

"She is scared to disappoint you both, Heda. I am not." Tamsin shifted and sat a little taller in her chair. "I want to marry your daughter."

There was a silence that felled the room and nobody watched and analysed Lexa with more care than Clarke. Her hands worked the stem of her cup and she sat back in her chair, eyed them both in a way that made Bo shrivel. "Tell me you love her." Tamsin eyed her with an uncertainty and it was clarified before more meaningless vowels could roll off her tongue. "Not you." Lexa shook her head, and turned back to her daughter. "Isabeau, do you love her?"

"More than I thought possible."

"Good." Lexa nodded, she thought and mused and looked to Clarke for reassurance. "When your spirit chooses, it chooses."

"See, this wasn't so bad." Clarke rubbed Lexa's shoulder.

"The real fight will be winning my wife around," Lexa eyed Tamsin, her arm wrapped around Clarke and Clarke's around her in return. "Fortunately for you, her heart is much kinder than mine."

"Is that," Tamsin eyes flitted from Bo's back to her mothers', "Is this your blessing?"

"The closest thing you will get to it." there was a little gnash to her teeth and Tamsin knew she would have to get used it.

…

The fire burned hot and the stars spattered the night above them, Clarke stood a distance away with Bo's hands pressed to her belly, they laughed and talked and Lexa admired her girls with a contemplative quiet that belonged to her.

"Congratulations by the way," Tamsin disturbed their shared silence, nursing her cup. "Clarke is glowing."

Lexa offered a little nod of her head.

"I know you still don't like me, but we should probably get used to one another."

"I agree." Lexa mused quietly, staring off at her wife. "But please, not tonight."

"She loves you both." Tamsin ignored her, taking a seat at the fire. "I know I can only ever hope to be second best, you and your wife are the great loves of her life. I'm okay with that."

Lexa turned her head, eyed her up and down and resigned herself to this fate. "Why did you accept her proposal?"

"Heda,"

"Don't lie to me." Lexa gave her a look, "I know my daughter, she is stubborn and you are tacit at best. I know she asked you. Why did you accept?"

"Why does the wolf howl at the moon?"

"I am trying." Lexa pointed her finger, "Do not test me."

"From the day she was my second, it was a game of convincing myself I didn't love her. She's arrogant and proud and set on taking on the world, and when I'm with her the grand stories of my exploits are suddenly worthless." there was a wry smile that worked itself into her cheeks, it was genuine and warm and Lexa knew it was foreign. "I will ride into battle and die for her, she knows it and I know it, and now you know it too."

"You remind me of someone I once knew."

"So I have been told."

"You don't," Lexa looked away, looked to the stars, worked her jaw and begged the gods not to test her more this night. "You have not shared quarters with my daughter?"

Tamsin profusely shook her head, she burned red and looked up to the same stars for respite. "Not until she is mine, for now she is yours."

The ice was shrouded in tradition, some of which Lexa knew. It comforted her to know of their ways. Their ways were sacrosanct and bound by honour, there was no speak of love or other things until after their union, she found a tiny victory in this.

"She will always be mine."

There was a look and Tamsin nodded behind long strands of white hair.

"Do you plan on children one day?" the commander looked off again, uncomfortable as she ever was. "Bo doesn't bare the defect, no doubt a gift from the sky." she said quietly.

"One day." Tamsin mused, "When you are too old to say no."

Lexa laughed, it was genuine and the first time Tamsin had heard such a noise; there was a pat to her shoulder, a condolence. "That day will never come." the commander advised her, standing from her seat to pour another drink.

…

"Do you think they'll learn to like each other?" Bo rested her head on her mom's shoulder, watching their brooding things gnash and work out their necessary clashes contently from afar.

"I think your mother is more resilient than what you give her credit for." Clarke nudged her side, rubbing her belly. "I wish you'd have waited, you're young Bo."

"No younger than she was." Bo reminded her.

"That was different and you know it."

"It took me twelve Summers to figure it out; but she's the woman who's going to set my pyre alight sixty Summers from now."

"You sound like your mother more and more every day, with any luck I'll call dibs on this one."

Bo grabbed Clarke's belly and placed her ear to the side, "Whatever you do, be a healer or a storyteller or something safe, mom needs a break." she laughed and Clarke pushed her away.

"Think I'll be a good big sister?" she grinned and looked up from the stool she flopped onto, she was so young, so much like them both; brown hair and soft faced, stubborn and gentle, wild eyed and softly smiled.

"The best." Clarke conceded, sitting down beside her. "Tamsin knows how lucky she is right?"

"I tell her every day we're together."

"Good, never stop." Clarke pulled her close, held her and kissed her head and enjoyed this temporary of moments whilst her daughter was hers and hers alone. "I think you're mama is going to get used to that one." she smiled, pushing Bo's head to watch the firm squeeze of a shoulder and the shallow bloom of a laugh.


	12. A Wedding

Lexa stretched tall and long in the warm rays of sunrise like a true wild thing, the stone was warm underneath her palms and the spring solstice glared until she had no choice but to shelter her eyes with one of her hands as she looked upon the stone and ruin of the capital below. On a normal day, the Citadel would be humming and market stalls would be trading along the cobbled ruins. Instead, the Citadel was deep in preparations for the day with people pointing and rushing with inanimate things below.

Clarke found herself against a pillar on the balcony watching from behind, the people and noises and smells of the city pleased her, they had not been back to this place together since their own wedding. Lexa wasn't much for the courtiers and politics of the capital's Citadel, she was not made for parties or for show, and Clarke knew these things well.

"You should be in bed," she sighed, not bothering to turn around.

A kiss from behind was pressed to the apex of her thick dark hair, and another to her tense jaw, and one more to the corner of her nose just in case. "Not a chance." Clarke smiled, her hands wrapped around her brooding warlord, a giant bump between them.

"Yesterday I taught her to walk."

"Yesterday you went hunting and Isabeau's party caught three more deer than yours." Clarke reminded her, pressing her lips to her bare shoulder. "You made her well."

"No, my love." Lexa turned, her calloused and rough hands firm around her waist. "You did." she leaned in for a deeper kiss.

…

"Is Ma there?" Bo nudged her mother who busied herself by the window waiting patiently whilst her daughter was dressed.

The sun was at it's midday peak, bleeding into the courtyard below against the sporadic shading of the sculpted trees whilst Lexa waited for her sky princesses, surrounded by the courtiers she hated so, with Indra her only true company.

"Yeah," Clarke pulled herself back to this moment and smiled. "She's waiting to take you to pray to the old gods."

"Do you believe in that stuff, Mom?" Bo wrinkled her nose, pulled every which way by hand maids who pulled her dress tighter and tighter.

"I believe that your mother believes it, and that's enough for me…" Clarke skirted around these things, she stood from the window sill, soothing her bump with little rubs here and there. "Here, let me," she took the lead from the maids, toying and neatening her daughter's appearance. She was beautiful, dressed in an honor to the sky, a grecian tunic that Clarke once wore on her wedding day. Her thick brown hair was braided off her face and ran down the olive skin of her back, her mother's colours flew thick from her shoulder along with a gold dot between her brows, a note of her thorough breeding.

"You are the most beautiful bride." Clarke smoothed down her braid.

"You should rest before that baby falls out of you."

"Careful, you're sounding like your mother."

"Don't you dare!" Bo laughed through that glowing smile.

"I've waited since the minute you were born for this day, I'm sure your little sister can wait for a few more." Clarke squeezed her cheeks, they were glowing and beautiful and she held them for a moment longer than she should have done, memories of scraped knees and books they read at bed times hurtled to the forefront of her everything.

"You okay, Mom?" Bo wiped away her tears.

"Kiddo," she held her cheeks, and quoted her own meddling mother. "You are just the best thing I ever did."

"Okay," Bo shook her head with that non-plus way she had made her own, smiling and flowing and truly coming into her own. "You really should rest, Mom. Ma is probably wearing the grass out with all that pacing."

"Just one more thing…" Clarke whispered, pulling out the face of a watch that once belonged to her father. It was quarts and blue, the strap long gone. "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." she pressed it into her palm.

"What?" Bo puzzled, her brow furrowing at the rhyme.

"Call it an old sky tradition." she smiled, "You're half sky too, remember."

"You never let me forget." she looked at her in that playful way that made everything feel lighter.

"It'll bring you good luck." Clarke mothered over her, slipping the memento in the slip of her dress.

.

"You ready?" Clarke eagerly peaked her head around the archway, her own hair pulled tight in that beautiful way Lexa loved just so.

"No, never." Lexa stifled a little smile and took a step forward.

"Heda," Clarke pulled her voice in that silly way, "I present to you, the _bride_." she grinned, her arms outstretched.

"How do I look guys?" Bo simply flew through the courtyard, she had Clarke's softness, her mouth and her nose and her smile, those were the first things she noticed. Her own foolish youth reflected in her daughter's eyes the second, her her jaw had that little flex and the unabashed adoration for that foreign Ice girl that poured from every inch of her.

Lexa paused in that staunch and thoughtful, nerve-wracking way that ate at Isabeau.

"You are beautiful." she said and meant every word. "Just, beautiful."

Lexa's hands flexed and she looked a little longer, on any given day, Bo was a reflection of herself, dirt on her hands and thick on her boots, her knife never far from her hand. But on this day, she was Clarke, she was metal birds and sky and quaint foreign traditions, she was all the things she remembered so fondly.

"Thanks, Mama, you're looking good yourself." Bo placed her hand on her shoulder. "Careful not to cry."

"I don't cry."

"Even a stone cries on a damp enough morning."

"I _don't_ cry." Lexa leaned in, the upturned corners of her mouth betraying her stoic face into a little smile.

Gone was the sheeny layer of dirt and life that laid on Lexa's skin, her hair was pulled in fresh braids and her paint expert and its lines clean, a new belt cinched her waist and she looked disarmingly feminine in a way Bo couldn't remember from times before.

"Look at you… I remember when you were this big," Indra appeared with the horses, she held her hand to her knee, chuckling. "Running around with the Heda's sword when your sky-mother wasn't looking." she nodded approvingly, hands to her belt. "You make a fine bride."

"Lex," Clarke flashed her the eyes, "Your _sword_?"

"Look what became of her…" she grabbed their daughter's chin and hid behind her words. "We made her well, remember."

"I made her well, you made her brave, remember?" Clarke pointed, "Don't you do the same with this one." she rubbed her tummy. "I can't handle anymore brave girls."

"Yes, dear." Lexa nodded, pulling her daughter away to the gate where their coach sat. "We must ride to the temple, we will be back before the sun reaches the great tpwer." she called to her wife.

"Ma," Bo nudged her as they walked fast and giddish, pretending not to hear Clarke's warnings about coming back late. "What is something old, something stolen, something blue?"

"Stories from the sky." she winked.

…

The coach pulled up on the outskirts of the Citadel, the great road they travelled upon to get to this place bended around the hills and into the horizon as far as the eye could see.

"Where's the temple?" Bo turned to her mother who passed a gold coin to the driver as he opened their door.

"Back in the Citadel."

"Aren't we supposed to pray to the old gods?"

"We are."

"Then why aren't we?" Bo pressed with frustration at the short answers.

"Look at that view." Lexa smiled, "That's why not."

"Ma, are you feeling okay?"

"Fine." she nodded, "I am well."

"You aren't much for views…"

The spring wind blew gently across the hilltop as they looked as far into the horizon as their eyes could carry, birds sung and flew in circles off into the trees and the breeze blew the leaves in that way that sounded like waves. It was peaceful.

"My mother," Lexa cleared her voice, "Your grandmother. Would take me to the markets in the Citadel every year at the beginning of spring. Afterwards, we'd walk the whole way here, dragging our feet, shouldering each other and the world. I never understood why. She said to me not long before her death, that this horizon was where her mother lived, and her mother's mother before." Lexa wrapped her arm around her daughter, "I've never told anyone that before, but I'm telling you, because this place," she looked to the distance, "this place is holier than any temple, this place is where you will find the answers to any questions you may have."

They stood still and quiet and Bo was unsure, although she hid it well, her mother's arm with all its strength wrapped around her. She gazed into the horizon, and almost as if the horizon gazed back into her, she understood. She wasn't sure what it was, but there was an understanding that passed between them, that this would be the place to find her Ma's spirit when she took her place.

"Why today?" Bo spoke up, quietly.

"All of your life, you have been a tiny wild thing never far from my sight." Lexa smiled, "Today, you are a woman."

…

People cheered, more people than she ever knew, more people than she would ever be able to count. Children sat on their fathers shoulders and waved and looked in awe as their coach passed through the road of the Citadel to the hallowed ground in the center of the capital where her union would be blessed.

"This is kind of intimidating." Bo turned to Clarke.

"Get used to it!" Abby piped up with a wry grin, a little greyer but no different to the way Bo remembered her as a child. "They're cheering for you."

"They're cheering for all of us." Clarke calmed her.

"But mostly me, right?" Bo's neck grew a little red.

"They're here for the party, life cannot always be war and famine. They are cheering for themselves and each other, and that is the most beautiful sight." Lexa leaned in with their mother tongue, stern eyed. "Do not let arrogance be your downfall, today you have the honor of being a part of our people's great joy."

"Yes, Heda." Bo nodded.

Lexa leaned back in her seat and gruffly sighed in that approving way. She looked out of the window and saw her daughter's wonderment in the faces of their people. "They're cheering for themselves and each other, and _for you_ too." she conceded.

"Was that so hard?" Clarke leaned in and whispered, rubbing her hand.

…

The soles of Tamsin's feet itched in that way that made her hop from side to side. She tried her best to steady herself, close her eyes and breathe and keep her hands still. The same way she did every morning of every battle. This wasn't battle, this was something entirely more difficult.

"...It's not too late..."

"...We can go home right now..."

"...Your uncle can explain..."

Her mother, the Ice Queen, fretted and quietly pleaded in her ear all the seconds that they waited. Her mother's skin was warm and wet like a mist had formed over her, and Tamsin couldn't be sure whether it was the product of nerves or ill-preparation for the warm weather of the tree lands.

"_Mooir, ik loven ist houmon._" she turned to her mother.

"_Dotre, ik loven ther._" her mother rested her hand on her shoulder.

"I love you too, Mom." she returned to English, out of respect for the Trikru that stood dotted around them.

"You remind me of how I looked on my wedding day." the Queen conceded her acceptance of these things. "Just beautiful." she smiled, running her hand over the fur across her shoulder.

"No one," Tamsin smiled and leaned in close, her voice low. "And I mean, _no one_, is as beautiful as you."

"I agree." Bo crept up on them from behind, "Queen Reina," she lowered her head curtly. "It's always pleasure."

Lexa's shoulders tensed at the mere expression of her daughter bowing to the Ice, but this was a wedding, and although she wasn't made for parties and events, she took the deep squeeze to her arm from her wife's hand as notice not to ruin these fragile things.

"Bo, you look, you look," Tamsin tried to find words, she searched high and low and stumbled until her mother's eyes bore into her for this vapid display in front of company. "You look,"

"She looks beautiful, we get it." Abby steamrolled the conversation, "Let's get this show on the road."

"Grandma. Wedding." Bo shot her the look she'd learned from Clarke.

"She has a point." Indra mused. "It is not wise for six clan leaders to be together in one place with no armoury for any length of time."

"That's reason enough for me." Reina gave Tamsin a little push towards her bride.

Bo blushed at these things and took Tamsin's waiting hand. "Do you think we should have waited until the summer, you know, for consistency?"

"What's the fun in consistency?" Tamsin whispered as they walked to the ash tree where they would be wed.

"You think you could put up with me for the rest of our lives? That's pretty consistent?"

"You know, now that you mention it…"

Bo squeezed the hand in her own hard and Tamsin stifled a laughed. "My mom is still looking for a reason to kick your butt, don't give her one." the tree girl smiled.

A few metres behind the procession followed them, this place was beautiful, of all the places in the Citadel this was one of Lexa's favourite, trees shrouded the square and the Great Spirit was alive and well within this place.

"You must sit." Lexa insisted, having a stool brought for her wife.

"It's our daughter's wedding." Clarke lowered her stare, rubbing her swollen tummy. "Stop making a scene."

"Sit." she demanded.

"...Or you'll have your best soldiers spy on me again?"

"That was many years ago." Lexa rolled her eyes. "Sit, _please_."

.

"Do you take this soul to be yours for eternity before the eyes of the Great Spirit?"

"I do." Tamsin nodded, holding tender hands. "You are mine." she whispered.

"I do too." Bo squeezed her fingers. "I am yours." she whispered back.

.

"You hanging in there?" Abby leaned and whispered in Lexa's ear as the ceremony droned on.

"My daughter, Hedatu of Trees and Princess of Sky and Ice." Lexa swallowed, "I should be pleased."

"_Should_?"

"She is my babe."

"And Clarke was mine." Abby noted, "You were the best thing that happened to my daughter, let this girl be the best thing that happens to yours."

Lexa nodded, she looked to the floor and to the sky and everywhere in between and thought on these words. "You are right, but she will always be mine before she is hers."

"And Clarke will always be mine before she is yours, welcome to the mother-in-law club, kiddo." she patted her shoulder. "With any luck you'll have this conversation with Bo one day."

"Let's hope there are many more conversations before that one."

Clarke looked up from her stool and glared at them both as their voices and whispers carried louder through the small gathering than either realised. "Guys. My daughter's wedding." she said, stiffly.

"Yes, dear." Lexa softly smiled.

"Sorry honey." Abby squeezed her shoulder.


	13. Wedding Night Pt I

(AN: You guys are the best, please keep reviewing!)

The afternoon quickly turned into evening in that way that made Bo wish she could claw back the minutes and savour each one just the tiniest bit more. The sky was an explosion of bold orange and bleeding pinks and something that was neither quite between the two. A din of chatter and talk and people carried its way amongst the large wedding gathering wherever her mothers seemed to move to and it reminded her of when she was small; the way they were treated with a foreign curiosity in the strange corners they travelled to, the Heda, the Sky-Princess, word of them always travelled long before they did.

She was glad of it, today of all days, today was for her and Tamsin.

Bo sat at her table place, quiet and pensive whilst her mother spoke to their people in their shared tongue, there were slaps to her shoulder and glasses raised to the daughter of trees who wedded at equal station and Lexa looked proud. For that, Bo was glad.

"You are my wife." Tamsin interrupted her purposeful silence, so quietly, so certainly. "You, are my wife." she licked her lips and whispered in a way that suddenly wasn't so certain anymore.

"Did we break you?" she whispered back, her hand brushing against the back of Tamsin's own. "Wanna get out of here?" she asked with those big doe-y eyes that often got Tamsin caught in the thick of it.

"Yesterday we were children, it was Summer and you were my second," Tamsin shook her head and her long white hair followed, there was a smile, or as close to it as she knew how. It pulled at her cheeks and sat low, hidden behind the quick rub of her hand to disguise such a thing. "Today," she tapped her fingers, "Today you're my wife."

"Try not to think to hard, you'll hurt yourself." Clarke leaned between them and placed firm hand on her new daughter-in-law's shoulder, she was quiet and neither of them knew she was there until she was, "Honey," she turned to her daughter, "Your mama has been waiting all afternoon to raise a toast with you…"

"How long do you need me gone for?" Bo scoffed.

"Ten minutes."

"Five."

"Deal."

Bo squeezed Tamsin's hand, she would learn these things, learn the way her mothers spoke and what the words they said really mean. "My mom wants to talk to you." she turned and eyed her mother in that way that reminded Clarke of Lexa, they were deep and stormy and ready to stand in front of the things she loved. "She is mine now, I won't be strong armed anymore so you guys can interrogate her."

"Easy, Lexa," Clarke laughed and rubbed her shoulder, "I won't bite! Just go see your mother."

Tamsin caught the tail end of a sympathetic smile, and although she wasn't fluent in the way they spoke, she knew it was her woman's way of wishing her luck.

"I understand you want to talk?"

"I do." Clarke nodded, she took a seat and rubbed the round of her tummy. "We're family now."

"Family is a a slight stretch, do you not think?" Tamsin scoffed, eyes off into the sky.

"You're very beautiful." Clarke blurted in that awkward way and caught Tamsin off guard, "My daughter has her mother's hair, and her eyes, and god knows she has her temper," she trailed off and tried to catch herself, unreserved, cheeks burning red, constantly rubbing the firm jutting kicks to her tummy. "but my daughter is like me more than she knows, and I once fell in love with a beautiful, dangerous warlord and so unlike my wife, who is barely-warming to the idea of you, I know why my daughter loves you. You're dangerous and smart and you make her feel alive, and you're beautiful, I understand these things."

"Are you," Tamsin looked at her with a narrowed gaze and paused, looked off, settled her jaw and decided firmly her sentence was better left unsaid, "I don't understand what we speak of." she swallowed, embarrassed, burning pink.

"I need to know that you can be her." she pointed to the Commander, tall and full of pride, she was grinning right there into her mug and under her arm, Isabeau grinned up at her mother like a reflection. "That is the standard she is going to hold you too, can you be the woman she is? That kind of leader?"

"I can." Tamsin sat a little taller, finally seeing these things clearer. "She is my wife, I can be or do anything she wants." she eyed Clarke in the most serious of ways.

"Good." she nodded, "That's good."

Like her mother, more like her than she ever knew she was, she stuck her head between the two of them. "Your five minutes was up two minutes ago." she announced, only there and between them in that exact second.

"I'm going to put bells on all of you." Tamsin shook her head as Clarke made her way back to her own brooding warlord.

"What did you talk of?"

"Things for only us to worry over." she forced a smile.

"You? Worry?" she laughed with those big doe-y eyes and wide toothy grin, "You don't worry about anything remember?"

"I have a wife now, I must worry about everything." she winked, raising her glass.

"Wanna get out of here?" Bo asked, cheeks dimpling, neck blushing.

Tamsin nodded and for the first time, she looked nervous, it bubbled beneath her and she shook it off like a shiver.

"I'd like that very much."

They were gone, and the irony was not missed upon Bo as they slipped through side streets towards a place neither knew they were heading to, that they were skipping their own wedding party. But she deserved an evening away from the politics of her mothers and she and they and everyone else knew that just as well. She knew Clarke would keep things ticking over, she'd give the Commander the eyes and the soft raise of her brow and warn her that they too were young once.

They stumbled through streets, walked through markets, watched sunset peak over the great tower, by the time they crept back into the room they would now share, it was dark and they were alone at last, candlelight flickered and painted their silhouettes across the walls. It was chilly, and Bo felt guilty for having the slightest space in her mind to even note such things.

"A toast." Bo cleared her throat, raising her glass.

Tamsin sat on the table, kicked her legs and almost scoffed, but she was her wife now, and so she did as she was told and lifted her cup. "To what?" she narrowed her eyes with the little defiance she would muster her way, "To us? To our wedding? I believe your sky-people use the word, boring?" she dared a grin.

"To us." Bo grinned back, "To the time I kicked your ass, to the times you kicked mine, to the time we rode through the thickets and you taught me all the names of all your old gods,"

"To the time you were four years old and cried when you met me," she smirked.

"To the time you were seven years old and spooked my mother's best generals,"

"To the time you tried to teach me to swim,"

"To the time you taught me how to fight,"

"To the time you found every which way to annoy me,"

Bo closed the proximity between them, their glasses were up, and she was between the Ice Princess's legs, wrapped somewhere beneath her arm pressed to her chest.

"To the time you asked me to be your wife,"

"To them time you agreed to be my wife,"

"To all the times we didn't give into temptation between then and now,"

"To all the times _I_ didn't give in to _your_ temptations." Tamsin corrected her and sipped her drink.

"To all the future times too." she sipped from her cup. "See, this wasn't so boring?" she mused between the gentle kick of her pale legs.

"I love you." Tamsin blurted, and it was a desperate attempt, as if she had only just learned the correlation between the feeling and that phrase. "I have waited many years to tell you that." she sighed, looking every which way with her light eyes and blushing cheeks.

"I love you too." Bo smiled and caught her chin, "Loving you is the easiest thing, I think I'll do it forever."

"I think I would most enjoy that."

Bo's fingers were deft and purposeful, she took the cup from Tamsin's hand and traced her fingers over her body. She was strong and tall and slender, and Bo felt it all beneath her wandering fingertips. "Is this okay?" she barely managed a whisper.

Tamsin nodded, her jaw wound and her fingers tight into her knuckles. "I love you, Sky Princess." she somehow pushed past the burn in her stomach to make the words roll off her tongue.

"Sky Princess is my mother's name, I'm one Fire Breather away from commanding the four elements." she grinned, nervously.

Tamsin moved quickly, pulled them to the bed, breathless yet patient and held them both there just so. "You are the commander of me, is this not enough?"

"It'll do."

Their lips met, and this time it was different, this time there was no need for restraint or words or patience, this time it was just them, finally together. Tamsin was gentler than she knew how to be, her fingers grazed her arms and chin and the space beneath her collarbone in pure wonderment, and Bo was surprised by these things, Surprised by this tender reverence her wife knew how to possess.

"You are mine." she eyed her, kissed her, burnt only for her.

"Ditto." she whispered breathless.

There was a lurch forward, these things were in motion and Bo lay dying to prove herself, the way she always had when it come to them. "I have dreamed of this since the day by lake." Tamsin whispered, rolling her on to her stomach, kissing the every which way of her shoulders and the puckers of marks a whip once laid into her skin.

There was a knock to the door and it was a harsh rap, Tamsin lurched forward once again, covering herself and Bo with handfuls of fur. The door opened and before there was more than half a crack, Tamsin had her blade from the nightstand, tight in her hand and ready. "What is the meaning of this?" she growled.

"Hedatu, we have been searching for you," Indra rasped and eyed them both, "Forgive me." she looked away from their transgressions, Bo imagined this was what Indra looked like when she blushed, she had never seen the warrior embarrassed before. "The child is coming." she hurriedly explained.

Bo shot off the bed, no care for discretion and tact as Tamsin lay confused in a heap where her wife was beneath her. Clothes were thrown at her and pulled on. "We have to get to the infirmary." she pulled on her jacket.

"Now? Right now?" Tamsin eyed her.

"Now." Indra and Bo managed at the same time with just as much bite.


	14. Wedding Night Pt 2

(AN: As always, thank you, and feel free to leave any prompts in my inbox.)

They puffed the short distance from their room to the infirmary, which itself was just a room not too far from sight. They were clothed and yet undressed and Tamsin knew the Commander would know these things, and so whilst most days she was unafraid and too certain about everything, she allowed today to be the rare day that she was nervous.

"She's going to kill me…" Bo shook her head, huffing and gasping as they grew closer.

"We're married." she sighed and did her best to remind her.

"She'll kill me." her head carried on shaking from side to side in that nervous way. "The birth of my sister, and they couldn't find us, Indra will tell her what we were doing, she's going to kill me." she resigned herself to the fate and imagined the narrowing of her mother's eyes and the curl of her lip and the staunch set of her shoulders.

"Your mother only needs the wind to change direction for her to want to kill me, somehow, I believe you are safe." Tamsin eyed her and Bo returned the look, their run slowed into a jog as they approached the side street where two figures loomed under the glow of the moon.

"Grandma?" Bo ran ahead as Abby lingered outside the door with Kane, sleeves rolled up, talking amongst themselves in that shallow way people do after eventful days. "Is she okay? Where are they?"

"Inside," Abby eyed the door, her hand was quickly out and blocking the way between Bo and her mothers. "Kiddo…" she began.

"I don't care about tradition, I want to see her." Bo was defiant, she shrugged off the soft outstretched hand on her shoulder and there was little Tamsin could do to contain these little explosions of her wife's determination and so instead she stood back and allowed these volatilities.

"You will..." Abby nodded and soothed, before she could finish the door swung open and Lexa crept out, she too was in a state of undress that Tamsin couldn't remember seeing before, her head was sweaty and all she wore was a hole ridden undershirt and her trousers and suddenly the Ice girl didn't feel as bare anymore in her overcoat and loose hair.

"I'm sorry." Bo nearly winced, her eyes meeting her mother's.

"There will be time for that," Lexa promised, staunch shouldered and lofty. "She is not far away," she broke into a small grin, holding Bo's shoulders with a quiet steadiness. "As soon as the babe is here you will be the first to see her." she promised.

There was a wail. It was definitely her mother's and it was as if every bone in her body was cracking under the weight of it. "Ma…" she tried with deep stare, "Please, let me see her?"

"I can't, and one day you will both understand." she nodded with a firm hand on Tamsin's shoulder too. "My apologies that these things interrupt the eve of your union, Tamsin." she said quietly, formally, able to hold the fire of Bo's determination in her bare hand without it scolding her. "Perhaps you two should return to your evening and I will send word when the babe is here?" she tried, unwavering.

Bo was silent and determined beyond the bounds of her wife or mother, and so instead she sat by the door, her arms crossed and her stare focused in front of her, as if her presence and guard beyond a wall away from her mother might somehow help.

"As you wish." Lexa breathed through her nose and tended back to her wife's whimpers, the door closing behind her.

"Why can't you go in?" Tamsin dared to ask, sitting beside her silent, slightly smaller, brooding warlord.

"Grounder traditions, no medicine, no doctors, just two parents and the great spirit guiding them." she huffed, staring off into the night sky from the cobbled stones as the weight of Clarke's cries made her teeth grind.

"Our traditions are similar." Tamsin nodded, and for a second, Bo allowed herself to be curious as to why these things had not been discussed before. "In our culture, a mother is silent during birth, a display of her strength." the nod of her head lulled.

"Sounds like a real party, I can't wait."

"So you do want my children, one day?"

Bo turned from her vacant stare and found softness in those harsh eyes, "You thought I didn't?"

"No, not that." Tamsin lightly shrugged her shoulders, wrapped the sides of her overcoat around herself to keep away the chill. "These things just have not been discussed."

"One day."

"One day." Tamsin agreed, wiping a smile away on the back of her cheeks. "I should imagine our children will be fine warriors."

"Or artists, or farmers, or poets…" Bo raised her brows, and Tamsin recalled Clarke's promise that they were more alike than she knew.

"One day." Tamsin sighed.

…

"I am here." Lexa whispered, the back of her hand to Clarke's forehead as desperate, pained cries echoed around this room they had made their own.

"Who thought we'd be doing this again?" Clarke raised her sweaty brow.

"We did it so well the last time." Lexa mused with that slight smile she'd mastered, she saw the determination in Clarke, it dripped into her chest until it threatened to overflow at the brim, and although they did not discuss such things she knew her wife was made of the toughest resolve when it came down to these things.

Candles flickered around the room and Clarke clutched to the pillow for just a tiny bit more comfort, a fragile thing that would not last through another contraction, she knew it and didn't care all the same and so when Lexa's hands worked their way up to check the baby's head she gripped tighter and felt her teeth grind beneath the weight of the pain.

"Thank you for the last eighteen years." Clarke breathed through gritted teeth.

Lexa eyed her in that cautious way that was uncertain about the truth of her words, the Skaikru traded sarcasm and bite in a way she would never be fluent in, she licked her lips and gently squeezed her leg and hoped this would be enough.

"They were you're doing more than they were mine, you were and are a wonderful mother, Clarke." Lexa nodded back and squeezed her hand, she sat on the stool beside her, held her together as best she could.

"Who do you think this one will take after?" she mused in a moment of respite.

"So long as the child has ten fingers and ten toes, I don't care for such things anymore." she softly smiled and gave away her older age with such sentiments, the grips of youth had never truly escaped them, they looked young and sometimes they were still eighteen at heart. Other times, they were twenty, and twenty-five, and thirty, wisdom shone through them like sunshine on an overcast afternoon.

…

It was cold outside but Bo didn't move once, she sat rooted in the spot and felt her mother's cries leak into her chest like drips and drops that threatened to fill her to the brim. Her fingers were blue, Tamsin saw it first, warmed them in the palms of her hands and kept quiet like she knew Bo needed her to do.

It was cold outside and she didn't move once, not a single inch, not until she heard those tiny pinched cries.

The door nearly swung off it's hinges and she was there and crying and between her mothers hugging them both and trying to catch a peak of the wrinkled thing in blankets.

Lexa wanted to be stern eyed and indignant that her daughter wouldn't abide these traditions, but it was her wedding day, and there was a new baby and Clarke was so happy caught up in it all.

"My babies," Clarke whispered and pressed her kisses to Bo's head, a coddled wrapped up thing in one arm and a wrapped up bigger thing in the other.

"Have you thought of a name for her?" Tamsin cleared her throat by the door, unsure on whether she was welcome to such an intimate family affair.

"Gods, who would of thought," Lexa shook her head in disbelief, looked between the girls and the ceiling and worked her jaw into a miraculous grin. "A boy." she shook her head.

"A boy?" Bo returned, looking up at her mama.

"A boy." Clarke grasped her chin and giddishly smiled.

"We want you both to name him, your brother," Lexa placed her hand on Bo's shoulder. "The great spirit has blessed this union of yours with the birth of a son." she nodded between her and Tamsin, upright and proud in that overbearing way that made her eyes burn deeper. "It is a fitting wedding gift."

"I don't think I should…" Bo stared at his little face with wonderment as Clarke hushed him to sleep.

"Leonartis." Tamsin spoke up, perhaps too soon.

"You dare?" Lexa nearly hissed, held back by the grip of Bo's hand around her wrist comfortingly.

"Leonartis." Clarke nodded in agreement, "Leo, for short."

"You name our boy for a dead Ice King?" Lexa shot her an accusatory look.

"You ended my father's fight, I wed your daughter, it feels like these things and our long, hateful feud should come full circle and be buried in this day of beginnings."

"Leonartis." Bo nodded in agreement, she watched the two women stare each other down and eventually their stares turned to her, observingly, curiously. She was past these things, Clarke passed her the little boy and whilst his eyes stayed close, his mouth widened and opened into a yawn. "Hi Leo," she cooed. "_Ai te sestre_."

Lexa watched her children and these things and arguments and feuds became meaningless, they were everything, they were the slope of her nose and the wire of her hair and all the best bits of her. "Leo." she nodded her head, "A fitting name for a strong boy."

"He's handsome, he will be a fine warrior." Tamsin nodded and breathed.

"He will." Lexa looked her way briefly, and it was in itself an apology, or at least as close as one would ever be drawn.

"We already have a fine warrior," Clarke sweeped down Bo's hair, "I'd like a doctor."

"I will give you many doctors, dozens of them." Lexa grinned unabashed, wanting and hopeful in a way that reinvigorated her youth. "Straw hair and fluent in the sky traditions you hold so dear."

"Lets focus on this one for now." Bo passed the boy to Lexa and she took him gladly.

She held him strong, and her arms felt entirely different in their ministrations this time around, this time they knew how to hold a baby, how to make them feel safe so they don't wail that long miserable sound that rattles from their tiny depths. So she cradled the boy tight. Became a mother bear once again transformed before these people, and whilst she wanted to weep, and whilst she hated herself for not, she loved this boy, she loved him and recognised her wiry dark hair and darker skin in his fresh unmarred face.

"Leonartis, yu gonplei ste begon." she nodded, prideful, motherly, his tiny, tiny hands reaching out at her.


	15. Crawfish Day

(AN: To keep clarifying this isn't a crossover, Bo and Tamsin are just inspired names because I'm also a Lost Girl fan, in my mind, Bo looks like Zoey Deutch and Tamsin as maybe more of a Margot Robbie type.)

The morning was early and there was no breeze to cut through the warmth and blow the curtains through the tent in that hypnotising way. This summer was particularly unforgiving but none of them seemed to mind, least of all Leo.

There were three of them, and Lexa wished there were four, on her best days she wished for five—Tamsin included. Their relationship was still tempestuous but she was making progress, or at least her Sky Princesses told her so. As much as it pained her, not seeing Isabeau riding out to scout the outposts in the early morning, or loftly grinning somewhere in the far distance whilst she gave her best generals trouble, these days were happy ones. Irreplaceable ones. Bo and Tamsin split their time between the Ice and Trees, under the keen tutelage of Kazran, and Lexa and Clarke spent the summer with their newest little sparrow of a boy, far from the threats of war and smoke that threatened their first months with Isabeau as a child. Lexa allowed herself to be grateful for what the great spirit afforded her this time around.

Leo's barely there whimpers roused her from her half asleep musings, his cries were entirely different to the ones Lexa remembered from Bo. His were soft and whimpery, rarely angry, he wrinkled his nose more than he cried and she knew these were the making of a contemplative thinker, a sky-boy.

"Good morning," she smiled and lifted him from the little bassinet in a way her arms were never built to do, he was bigger and the muscles in his neck were strong for his age, she held him to her body and his head found the little space between her chest. His whimpers stopped, and so she flexed her legs and yawned and looked at the chair where her armour lay strewn across. "Those things can wait." she tried her best to coo at the boy, it wasn't much but it was entirely enough and he drooled on her chest which she took as his approval of her efforts.

The smell of steamed crawfish caught her attention, it was the smell of Clarke's good moods, there were mornings that Clarke casted away doldrum and shrugged on a smile for little more reason other than that she could, she'd wear it like a jewel or a gift, present herself to the world in it and think nothing more. It amazed Lexa. It confused and intrigued her, but most of all, it amazed her. In her younger days she thought it odd the way the skaikru smiled and laughed and grinned stupidly at one another, but with age came the realisation that it was of the many things she loved about Clarke, the way she smiled simply because she could.

"Morning," she barely looked over her shoulder, stirring over a great pot just beyond the boundary line of the tent humming away a little tune Lexa had heard many times before.

"Good morning," Lexa caught her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers, "Smells good." she moved her head towards the food pot, right into her line of vision.

"Caught them fresh this morning." Clarke turned, eyeing her wife in her underwear and undershirt in every which way she could. She had a baby held fiercely against her, and her legs were long and lean, little scars and puckers mapping the constellations of her willingness to die to protect the things she loved. Clarke was in awe and enchanted, she always was on mornings like this, when the sky was still purple and orange and the rest of their people, other than a few standing guard, were still asleep.

"Down by the creak?"

Clarke was up and over to the archway of their tent, tender lips found tender lips and the ache that burned within her was cooled. "Good morning." she smiled, again.

"Good morning." Lexa leaned in and whispered, she traced her thumb over her brow and tucked the blonde hair behind her ear, their baby held to her with one arm.

"I walked to a spot that hasn't been fished for a while, where the fork meets the river, they were big ones, I caught maybe forty." she shrugged and leaned her cheek into Lexa's palm, she turned, grabbing a bowl to ladle crawfish and corn for the Heda's breakfast.

"You caught them, you eat first." Lexa held her wrist gently.

Gentle whimpering sobs interrupted them, Leo's face puckered and frowned, it was their cue.

"Looks like he eats first," she rolled her eyes and smirked, trading the baby for a bowl, "Eat. Today's a good day. I can feel it." she leaned in, hushing, beaming, kissing the slope of her cheek.

…

The cranking and churning of the main gates announced an arrival, and if it wasn't for the number of horses that followed, Lexa wouldn't have paid much notice. But she was there, smiling from a distance and giving her best generals trouble and Lexa knew Clarke was right about these things. Today would be a good day.

"You ride for two days without sending word?" Lexa raised her brow, huffing down the last of the hill before taking the reigns of Bo's loose horse, Tamsin dismounted her own.

"Word was sent a day ahead, it was not received?" the white-haired warrior rubbed the grime and dew from her pale face with the backs of her hands, she grabbed Lexa's forearm and Lexa grabbed her's in return as they walked up the sloping northern hill.

"It was not." Lexa replied, her shoulders pulled back as she handed the reigns to an apprenticing stable boy.

Tamsin gulped, and it wasn't unnoticed.

"Mama!" Bo yelled, and these things were forgotten as soon as they were recognised. Bo was as beautiful as she ever was, her mother's colours flowing from her shoulder guard into the wind she cut behind her, she was green eyes and dark skin and the best memories of Lexa's own youth, with the glow of Clarke's cheeks and the gift of her patience.

"Starling," Lexa grabbed her, smoothed her hair, held her and didn't care that people saw these things. She quickly let her go, quickly lowered her tone and quickly began to care again. But the smile was plastered right into her cheeks, and Bo felt the wave of relief wash over her.

"It's good to see you smiling, Mama, the news must have came as a surprise." she laughed, pulling at Tamsin's arm to bring her closer.

"I should think so." Lexa let the hint of a laugh escape her lips, "One moment I'm eating crawfish, and the next you bring half an army to our gates."

"Reina's insistence," she shook her head, "I think they think I'm made of glass now."

"Why to the gods so?" Lexa raised a perplexed and offended eyebrow, "Your mother insults my daughter's thorough breeding? She was your second, does she not think highly of your tutelage?" she turned to Tamsin, weighing her up with the full force of her tightened jaw.

"My mother recognises that we are the embodiment of the alliance, some of the other clans have yet to look favourably upon Bo one day leading the twelve with an Ice Queen at her side." Tamsin replied cooly.

Lexa gruffly sighed her agreement at these things. "You are here now under our protection, besides, today is a crawfish day." Lexa gently patted Bo's cheek and turned back to climb the northern slope. "I expect you both in an hour once you have settled."

"Yes Heda." they both answered.

"I don't believe the Heda knows." Tamsin swallowed, pulling her wife aside as soon as her mother was out of earshot. "She received no word from the messenger." she leaned in and whispered, looking over their shoulders as to who might be listening.

"The outer clans." Bo rubbed her head, "They must have strung him up and took the message, they probably thought they'd find out what route we would travel to Tondc."

"So she doesn't know?"

"She doesn't know." Bo's fingers grew white around the handle of her sword, "Today is a crawfish day." she gritted her teeth and shook her head to the sky, she collected herself, breathed in and out and tried once again. "Today is meant to be a happy, stress-free day."

"I'm sure the messenger has had a worse day than you." she shrugged, taking her hand and walking to the old building south of the settlement.

"You're not funny."

"I know," she lied and smirked, "What is a crawfish day?"

"When my mother is in a very, _very _good mood, she catches fresh crawfish and cooks them up for my mama, she's happy all day, it makes Mama happy too. It's just a family superstition that crawfish days are not to be messed with."

"I could write a book on your family's superstitions, woman." Tamsin shook her head in that playful way. "We better not mess with your crawfish day," she swallowed and adjusted her shoulders, holding open the door for her wife. "I am not in a position to fight the consequence of superstition."

"I'm pregnant, not cursed."

"Why take the chance?" Tamsin shrugged her shoulders, following her wife inside.

…

Lexa rocked the boy in her arms, he was four months old, entirely too small and not nearly as heavy as he should be, but somehow he was strong and she took great pleasure in being the root cause of such things.

"You look worried." Clarke hummed, looking over the basket where she folded little clothes and blankets.

"I have thought much on our last clan meeting, perhaps it's time to build with bricks and mortar on this settlement. There has been no war for more years than I care too remember." she lied, the truth was that she was in-flux, she saw everything and knew everything and it was her job to do so. She was an expert in Bo, and so she knew the nervous flicker of her eyes which whispered that there were things unsaid.

"You mean it?" Clarke took a step forward and her eyes lit up, "We're going to build a house?" she said in that tiny optimistic way, her fingers wrapped around a pair of little booties.

"If it pleases you." Lexa shrugged it off and wished she had not brought up such things, their tent was not a tent as much as it was a structure, thick canvas wrapped around high beams with thatch on the outside to keep away the cold, their home was modest for their station, there was a table and seats, a radio that played broadcasts from Camp Jaha, Lexa hated it. It was invasive. She often found herself in what used to be Bo's room to avoid such things, her room was separated by a curtain and it still held all of her things like a museum to her youth, it was peaceful and Lexa liked that.

Their bedroom was anything but peaceful, it was separated from the main room that homed the war throne by a partition made from thin shavings of wood Clarke had woven together on a particularly boring day. Inside, it was normally where they either fought or made love, rarely things inbetween. However, it was Leo's bedroom too and so there was little of either to be had for now.

The truth, was that Lexa was accustomed to this way of life, it comforted her knowing that with the tide of war all of these things could be picked up and put down exactly the way they are on different lands. But times were different and she was not blind to its passing.

"We could build on the south side of the settlement at the bottom of the slope, we'd have a little privacy, we could paint the rooms ourselves?" she eyed her in that hopeful way, her smile widened into her cheeks and showed her teeth, and Lexa found it difficult to say no at these attempts of domestication.

"Paint the rooms?" she raised her brow.

"Sure," Clarke nodded.

"Will there be a bedroom in this house, like the ones in Jaha?"

"Was you planning on sleeping outside?" Clarke cocked her brow.

"With that attitude? Perhaps." she made ripples in her brow.

Clarke closed the space between them and ran her fingers through wisps of dark hair that framed Lexa's face. "Our bedroom will have a fireplace, and we'll be able to make all the noise we want too without waking the kids."

Suddenly, Lexa found herself more willing to be domesticated, more willing to forgo their nomadic way. "That sounds, more than adequate." she nodded agreeably.

…

They sat around the dinner table, it was warm and the torches dotted around the settlement lit up the early evening like fireflies, Bo was too busy to pay much attention to these things, Leo was in her arms, with a soft sloping button nose and cheeks that had that delicious baby smell to them.

"You look well, the both of you." Clarke nodded her approval, chewing the meat and pushing it to the inside of her cheek. They did look well, they were so far from the children they once were. Tamsin was tall and built and strong, her face was feminine, wisps of white hair framed it along with the cut of her cheekbones. There were little scars, one above her brow and a long thin one by her jaw, but she was beautiful, an accoutrement to Bo. Bo was smaller, maybe by and inch or six, but she made up for the lost height with her mother's dissolve. Her skin was tan and the Ice had failed to take that from her this summer. It contrasted against Tamsin's, and for a moment, Clarke wondered whether this was how Abby saw her and Lexa during their formative, crucial years.

"No fresh scars," Lexa noted, taking Tamsin's chin between her fingers. It was personable and almost motherly, more personable than she had been before, but she was glad there were no fresh lines. "No quarrels from the rebels in the west this summer?"

"None that Bo couldn't handle." Tamsin smiled at her wife, squeezing her hand. "It seems there has been few quarrels for everyone, perhaps, we will all become obsolete in this utopia that is rising."

"I hope to the gods so." Lexa nodded, wiping the dripping on her plate with bread. "But, peace is an unsustainable ideal. In times of peace, we must make use of ourselves. This summer we have built schools and mended wells and paved bridges for better trade routes. Next summer, I hope peace will have lasted long enough for those schools to still stand."

"Next summer." Bo cleared her throat and looked up from the baby boy who caught her fingers with his hand, "Next summer will be very different for us all."

"How so?" Clarke sat back in her chair, instinctively, she grabbed Lexa's hand and fixed her shoulders as if she could bear the weight of these things for them both.

"We sent news, maybe two weeks ago, but it didn't reach you… We assumed you knew when we arrived." Tamsin began, clearing her throat. "Forgive me, Heda." she looked to Bo for help.

"You have never asked my forgiveness yet, and I have known you since you were small." Lexa shuffled in her chair and kept her tone measured, thanks to Clarke's hand squeezing her own. "Bo, speak true."

"Please be happy for us." she breathed, it was audible, it was so quiet that the rustle of the trees was overbearing. Leo squeezed her fingers, and she held him closer to her chest and stared at her baby brother's green eyes and somehow, she knew these things would be okay. "Ai kom goufa, Nomon."

Lexa covered her mouth and her eyes grew a little wider, "Kom goufa?" she whispered, looking between the faces that sat around her. "_Kom goufa?_" she focused on Clarke.

"Honey-"

"A child?"

"A child." Bo grabbed her free hand, squeezing and smiling and happy in a way Lexa remembered fondly in the reflection of Clarke's own face. "A baby, Mama."

"It's so soon." she laughed and the world began to turn again.

"Sooner than either of us were planning, but the gods have blessed this." Tamsin sat up a little straight, and she too was happy, it stretched across her cheeks and moved through her fingers, right through to the gentle way she held Bo's hand.

"You're happy, right?" Bo whispered in that fragile, childlike way.

"Honey…" Clarke was up, arms wrapped around them both. "See. I told you. Crawfish day." she grinned, squeezing her daughter's cheeks. "We'll go to the medical bay tomorrow, check up and make sure everything's ticking right."

"No woman in my bloodline since before the old world has lived long enough to see her grandchildren." Lexa mumbled, "I think, I'm entirely too young to be a grandmother."

Clarke thought about this, she was right, she was too young, they were both too young. Bo was too young, and Tamsin was too young, and they were all just too young and too responsible in this world they'd inherited. It didn't take much stretch of her memory to remember being young once with a baby swaddled in her arms.

"It's not easy work." Clarke squeezed her shoulder.

"I don't want it to be." Bo smiled in that way that made everything brighter. "Besides, I have the best moms in the world to show me." she squeezed her arm and stroked the tiny, barely there protruding ridge of her stomach.

…

Tamsin tossed in bed, she was still unaccustomed to the heat even after all these years and as much as she hated it, she boiled to the brim with resentment for how peacefully Bo always slept on these nights.

"Where are you going?" Bo whispered sleepily, rolling with her as Tamsin pulled the arm that held her close from beneath her. They were naked, and Bo was beautiful, a monument to the alliance of stars and trees, and Tamsin felt entirely guilty for turning away from her beauty for even a second.

"Just some fresh air, my love." she kissed her temple and hushed her back to sleep, pulling over a shirt and some pants that she couldn't be sure were hers or Isabeau's. She ached with the heat, the shirt was too much and the pants were too much and she ached for the cold bite of her homelands.

Her feet softly padded against the ground, she was as silent and expert at not making a sound as she was when she was young, stalking deer through the great snowy woods. This was entirely different, all she was after was some of the cool honeysuckle water passed around at dinner.

"Careful, it's frowned upon to sneak around in the small hours when your wife is asleep."

"Clarke." she jumped, gathering herself, "I wasn't—" she huffed, staring at the sky and deciding against her verbose tendencies. "It's just the heat, that's all."

"Here." she pushed out a canteen, Tamsin eagerly took it back, drank the cool contents gladly and sat down beside her in a heap.

"It's hotter than two bulls in a pepper patch." Tamsin wiped the sweat from her lip with the back of her hand. "What are you doing up?"

Clarke leaned back and took a swig of the canteen, "The heat always gets to me, ever since I came here."

"Sometimes I forget."

"Sometimes we all do." Clarke mused on these things, "I tell you one thing, the world is a lot prettier down here than it is from up there."

"I don't disagree with you." Tamsin relaxed into a slight breeze that worked over them. "Bo tells me the stories, the ones you told her when she was young, I hear her whispering them to the babe sometimes."

"Are you excited?"

"Immeasurably." Tamsin said, with all the measure in the world.

"You know, I think you'll make a great Mom, Tamsin."

"Really?" she raised her brow, "Careful, Clarke of the Sky People, that sounded like a genuine compliment."

Clarke nudged her ribs, and in an unguarded moment, they both laughed. "I really do." she eased, "I watched her follow you into scuffles and battles and patrols around the outposts, and she was so small, you both were. You were hard on her, there were times when I hated you as much as she did, but you always brought her home alive. You always, always, brought her back stronger than she was before."

Her lips quivered, and her eyes searched high and low for a reason for all of this. "Funny... the way life turns out, isn't it?"

"I guess it is." she agreed, taking another sip of the canteen. "The next few months will be harder on you, I remember the way Lexa was, as soon as there was a bump she was on tip toes around me."

"I love that girl." Tamsin whispered in that sincere way she saved for moments of clarity, "I love her so much, and from that love, they'll be a tiny, incomprehensibly tiny and feeble and weak little baby that needs all of the best parts of us. How do you do that? How do you give someone the very best parts of you?" her brows furrowed into hills, and her throat was tight with something she couldn't shake off, and Clarke saw it all, she saw it like a reflection of Lexa.

"You don't." she took Tamsin's hand, "You do the best you can, and love you as much as you can, and you live as much as you can, and that is the way it goes."

"I am new to these things."

"Lexa has been trying for nearly nineteen years, and she's still new to the whole thing."


	16. Attack on The Schoolhouse

(AN: **Trigger warning;** I write a lot of fluff but this chapter is going to really hurt, I want to try and keep the whole thing as true to the canon universe as possible and in my mind, just like the show, there has to be death sometimes. Maybe only read this if you're in a sadomasochist mood.)

She's six months and counting, it's felt through and beyond the family, the sky people feel it and the trikru feel it and the ice feel it and all of that feeling collides into an explosion of truth that reaches the furthest lands. This child, their child, is everyone's.

The gel is cold on her stomach and Clarke tries to be fast, she looks at the screen and listened to the rhythm of a tiny heartbeat and hummed in that motherly way. "They're a little underweight." Clarke's brow furrowed, and like a mirror, Tamsin's furrowed too.

"Impossible." Tamsin's back arched with the indignation she tried desperately to unlearn. "Three meals a day I've cooked her, I caught the meats myself." Tamsin's eyes worked between Clarke and Bo in that disgruntled, confused way. "The babe is strong, I know it."

Lexa was over her shoulder, peering in on these things with that quiet authority she always possessed, "Be still," she mused, patiently waiting for the last wrack of nerves to melt from Tamsin's posture. "The strongest are often the smallest." she quietly whispered Bo's way, squeezing her shoulder.

"Thanks, Mama." Bo smiled. The gel was cold and the bed was cold and much like her mother, she hated the medical bay Clarke tinkered away in. But, they were all here, there were so many people and it brought the relief she needed knowing this type of love.

"Speak true, Clarke, is it a son or is my seat assured by two generations of daughters?" Lexa's eyes lit up, her neck craning at the ultrasound trying to work out the abstract shapes that melded against abstract shapes.

"Not until they're born, how many times do we have to say, Mama?" she patted her hand.

Lexa's shoulders deflated, outside this room she was the defacto leader of all matters, but in this room she was an antsy, waiting grandmother. Far too young, still in her prime, but antsy all the same. Abby recognised these things, she was still only a year shy of sixty, the only signs of which were the silvering flashes of hair and a wrinkle or three beside her eyes.

"Welcome to the club." she winked, and Lexa found the whole thing painful.

…

"Bo!" Leo squealed, sitting on a blanket with all of his prized toys. "Bobobo!"

He's ten months old, entirely too clever for his age, he can't walk and he can't talk and he can't do much but he says words like Bo and Ma, and it's all more than any of their hearts can take.

"Hey buddy," she pulls him from the floor into the air, sitting him at her hip. "You miss me?" Leo babbled incessantly, his head flopping to her chest where she pressed long lingering kisses to his crown of dark hair, and back to the fixed point where he could stare at his mother stalking in a small circle as she talked with her advisors outside. "Clearly not…" she rolled her eyes, "Did you miss me?" she turned to Clarke, an unabashed grin plastered right into her cheeks.

"I saw you an hour ago." she plotted points on a map before finally moving to give her a hug. She took the boy from her arms and pressed kisses to her sons hair and his eyes and his smile. "It's your mother I miss, I haven't seen her busy with planning like this since the Ice War."

"The build is going well then?"

"You know your Mama, everything has to be perfect, she's more concerned with your build." Clarke bounced the boy and mused on these things, "Who would have thought the great commander could care so much about building a house."

"Who would have thought the great Wanheda could care so much about building a house."

"Don't call me that." Clarke shivered, cradling her baby in a way that seemed entirely paradoxical now.

"Sorry Mom, I was just playing." she looked up with those big sorry eyes, not quite green and not quite brown but entirely earnest with their apology, she's still a babe, just eighteen with so much learning of her own to do. "Don't you think it's kind of badass though-"

"Stop." Clarke warned her, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay…" Bo gave in, sitting on her mother's throne even though she knew better, her legs swung over the arm as she rubbed her bump without much thought. "Answer me this, why did you and Ma leave Polis and move to these lands in the first place?"

It was no surprise to Clarke that these conversations would be had sooner or later, Lexa had been working Tamsin and Bo for months, persuading them to take her seat in the capital. She whispered it and hinted it when she thought Clarke wasn't paying attention, and Clarke knew the reasons why, it was time for Bo to be groomed to take command. They spoke about it on rare quiet nights, how Lexa might be the first Heda in a hundred years to live long enough to retire from her post, but it all laid on the back of their success at courting life in Polis.

"Your mother always hated Polis, she felt it was too far away from her people, and then I came along and life," she looked down at the baby in her arms, rocking him to her chest. "Life just changed, we wanted you to have as close to a normal childhood as possible."

"You did a great job." Bo nodded, musing and thinking and worrying in that way that made her work her brow into great mountains.

"She won't be angry if you choose not to go."

"I know," she nodded, "I'm just worried you'll be angry if I do choose to go."

"What does Tamsin think?"

"She thinks Polis is where we need to be if I plan on leading the twelve." Bo leaned her chin on her hand and blew a piece of hair out of her face, "She'd tell you herself if she wasn't so busy fixing the entire world before the baby is born."

"I take it she's helping your mother with the plans for the school house?"

"They're spending too much time together, it's weird." Bo huffed, rubbing her belly, "Don't you miss the days when they hated each other?"

"Sometimes." Clarke conceded, "Your mother stayed out late last night, she said she was in Alexandria tending to a spy who had been caught, I think they were actually drinking in the district territories."

"At least you got a night to yourself, Tamsin has been breathing down my neck ever since the healers told us about the baby. The only privacy I get is when me and aunt Octavia scout the outposts to Arkadia."

Like a memory that had been locked away, it all came rushing back to her, and Clarke laughed and laughed until she drew a quirked brow from Bo. She didn't know whether to blame Tamsin or Lexa, or maybe Bo for being as naive as she once was.

"Your aunt is a real pushover sometimes."

"Explain." Bo lowered her brow, she was angry and she didn't know why, but she had a feeling she would soon find out. She was quickly up and sitting in the throne, her overcoat smothered her bump and this was the closest Clarke would ever come to seeing Lexa in her primal youth once again.

"Do you remember that story I used to tell you, about the time your mother had her best warriors stalk me?" Clarke raised a brow of her own, placing the sleeping baby in his crib. Bo's expression was blank and yet still somehow angry and these were the traits gifted from her mother. "When me and Octavia went to the lake?"

Clarity washed over her, and there was no doubt of her anger, her eyes were wide and her back was raised like a cornered cat. "You don't-" she looked around and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "Tell me they haven't been following me?"

"Ice snipers are the quietest, you should know that."

Bo was up, she was on her feet and moving for the door and Clarke knew Lexa would get just as much of the brunt of this as Tamsin. "Where are you going?" Clarke called after her, taking a step.

"I'm going to kill her."

"Tamsin or Mom?"

"Whoever I see first."

…

She's seven months and inching closer to the finish line, the bed is the neutral ground where they shed any and all signs of their station and Bo is grateful, in this bed, she is someone's wife and someone is hers.

Tamsin is gentle, she is careful and deft and not too heavy with her hands, she touches her stomach and tries not to wake either of them. She still does, but Bo doesn't mind. She never does.

"Hi," she whispers, taking long blonde locks of hair into her fingers. "Why are you awake?" she shuffles, her bump getting in the way of her movements.

"Colt." she whispered.

"What?" Bo squinted. It was dark, her eyes adjusted and she just about made out the slope of Tamsin's cheeks and the wide of her eyes, the sheets rustled as she sat up and Tamsin quickly followed.

"Boy or girl, we name them Colt."

"Why Colt?"

"Why not?"

Bo felt the exhaustion lay claim to her, it worked over her, owned her. She was too tired, and Tamsin seemed too certain, and so she acclimated to these things and let her wife's will have this victory.

"Colt." she nodded, laying her head into the space between her wife's arm and breast. As if on cue, ripples moved through her stomach, like goldfish fluttering around right inside of her. "I think they like it." she pulled Tamsin's hand down, right over the ripples and flutters.

…

Lexa painted the sky above them with the stories she'll tell their first grandchild, it's late, and Clarke is tucked under her arm, trying to taper the excitement in her voice as their own baby lies fast asleep.

"I'll be the first one, the first woman to see a grandchild in all the generations of my family." she whispered.

"Why are we awake?"

"The first one, Clarke." she turns, eyeing her in that visceral way. "Am I old enough to be grandmother?"

"No." Clarke shook her head, "We're barely old enough to be parents."

Before she knows it, Lexa is on top of her, wanting and hungry. "I want more." she whispers in her ear, suddenly.

"More what?"

"Doctors." she dives, kissing and taking these things with her bare hands. "Dozens of them."

…

Winter is hard this year, and Lexa knows these things because the air evaporates straight from the breath of the people running frantically over the frosty dirt to and from the gates. Children, bloodied and dirtied, were crying. The endless small gaggles of babies were herded through the cranked open gates like lambs by the barely older ones, they were shaking and desperate searching for the outreached arms of their mothers.

The crowd ebbed and flowed, and Octavia, Lincoln and Indra moved against it to find out something, anything, and Lexa felt entirely incompetent, it was her job to know the answer to the question her people would ask; whose blood is to pay for this?

"What's happening?" Tamsin finally reaches Lexa, out of breath and bent out of shape after running the whole distance of the settlement.

"We don't know," she breathed, contemplative, tall with her hand on the hilt of her sword. "Where is Leo?"

"Safe… with Kane."

"Where is my daughter?" she raised her brow, like an afterthought, turning back to continue searching the forming sea of people for Bo's face.

"She rode to the schoolhouse beyond the districts this morning to watch the younger thirds practice." Tamsin caught her breath, wrapping her loose white hair into a bun off of her red cheeks. "Is she with the babies?" she sighed once more, as if these things were assured.

Tamsin saw it in Lexa's eyes, the panic. It was visceral, pure, feeding the tremor that works over the calloused hand that covered her hung open mouth. Before she can run off in the opposite direction, search high and low for her wife who no doubt was tending to little ones with Clarke and the rest of the sky healers, Octavia is between them and Lincoln is barely holding on to her.

"Rebel attack on the schoolhouse!" she grabs Lexa and there's a vapid pause, she searches with her eyes, disbelief and shock wracking her wound up jaw. "Heda!" Octavia yanks at her shoulders once more, pulling her back to reality.

"We ride, now!" Lexa commands her closest people. "Nobody tells Clarke until Bo is found safe!"

…

The approach to the schoolhouse is barely a dirt path, there's the bare winter skeleton of trees overhead and little else, nowhere for rebel snipers to hide from Lexa's expert gaze, and so they ride fast. They all do their best to not look at the tiny scattered bodies littered like leaves in the school yard.

Tamsin doesn't care and she hates herself for it, but she's fast and expert, the first one through the classroom door with Lexa quickly on her tail, and these are the things that matter right now so she saves her grief for later. There's three rebel clansmen, one mercenary, they're dead where they lie and she knows from the expert cuts that bled them like pigs for slaughter that they met their end at Bo's hand, Lexa steps over them first, her hand tight on the hilt of her sword and her head shooting from side to side, searching.

"Hedatu," a little sky girl shakes Bo's figure, desperately, "They're here."

She is lame on the ground with her sword beside her. Blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth, spattered across her, leaking from beneath the scarf pressed to her shoulder. Lexa can do little but hope none of it's hers but she knows that is stupid and fruitless. Bo barely rose her head, she wheezed like a great maimed beast, not quite still and not quite moving, with a sparse guard of loyal thirds who sat tucked around her, "See," her head swayed, "I told you the Heda and the Princess would come save us." she whispered to the little ones.

Tamsin's hands are all over her, pressing the flesh wound, holding her hand, feeling the great bump that sat prominent under her chest. "What did they do to you, my love?"

"Tamsin… it's wet." she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be touched and squeezed and pressed in that familiar, albeit frantic way.

"What do you mean it's wet?" she looks up at the faces peering in at the door.

"She means her waters have broken." Lexa is at her side, scooping her daughter into her arms. "Ride ahead, tell Clarke and Abby to be ready." she swallowed the vomit back.

Tamsin is already rushing ahead with the saved children, gathering the horses and busying herself in that entirely cool way that keeps her together. It takes a second for Bo to realise they're moving too, the walls blur and pictures pass them, and her Ma is carrying her effortlessly away from the classroom.

"Did I save them all?"

"Yes," Lexa lies, bites her tongue, feels her gnarled chest twist a little more. "They're all safe." Bo breaks a sob, it wracks the last of her strength, heaves and pulls at her chest until all there is left is the warmth and comfort of sleep.

…

She's barely there on the table, forehead sweating and paler than Clarke has ever seen her before. It makes her feel sick. It swirls around her stomach and spreads into the pleura of her chest, but she knows she can't be her mother right now, she has to be her doctor. So she swallows it back, takes a breath and keeps moving ahead.

Bo is aware of few things, she recognised the chrome and smell of the medical bay, but the voices sound distant and muffled, like an entire sea is separating her from all of this. She drifts in and out of sleep. But she knows Tamsin's hands, she'd recognise them anywhere. They're stroking the hair out of her face and rubbing the dried blood off of each of her fingers and she knows she's not alone.

"The baby… the baby!" she almost lurches off the table, suddenly recognising the sudden still feeling in her stomach.

"It's okay… be still." Lexa pulls her shoulders back to the bed, staring hopefully at the little screen, waiting for abstract shapes to meld against abstract shapes. "Be strong." she grits her teeth, and she doesn't know whether she's saying it to Bo, or the baby, or maybe herself, but she's saying it with everything she has.

Tamsin is quiet and pale, the IV line is thick with dark venous blood in her elbow, pulling it from her veins into Bo's, she's already gave twice the amount she should but she'll bleed herself dry to keep them strong.

"Tamsin… I-" Clarke sniffs it back, shakes her head, stares at the little screen once more. "I'm sorry." she tries and it burns her alive. Tamsin is still, much stiller than Clarke anticipated. Her neck rolls in that slow way, looking for a tiny bit of release from this burden and her hands are up. Right into her white hair. Her shoulders are tiny and suddenly, she is nothing but vibrations of quiet sobs.

"Check again." Lexa demands, taller and angrier.

"Honey-" Clarke tries, wiping the gel away.

"Again!" she roars, bearing her teeth. She's over their daughter, fierce and protecting just as she had always been. Bo was not able to understand this pain, she was under from painkillers and away from it all, and it was their job to fix this before she woke up. "Check. Again." she demands.

Clarke concedes, and she hates herself for being right, and she hates herself even more for giving them hope, but she checks. She wishes more than anyone that the fire of Lexa's determination to fix these things are enough, but they're not. And she has to be the one to tell them these truths, she has to.

She searches and searches, caves again and again to the commander's orders. But it's not enough.

"The baby-" she halts herself and Tamsin is ruined, a mess, balled tight and small like she could disappear from all of this. But Clarke knows she has to say the words, she has to say it to make it real. "There's no heartbeat… the baby is gone."

…

"I can't tell her."

"You must… she has to hear it from you." they all try. Octavia, Clarke and Abby. But Tamsin is pacing like a hungry wolf. Her eyes are red. She hasn't slept and she sees her through the little porthole window, but her feet won't move towards the door, and she knows she isn't capable of what's being asked of her.

Lexa is stoic and she has spoken tiny things, yes and no's here, nods there, small manageable things that don't require an ounce of her thought. But her daughter is awake, and she won't allow her to be disrespected by these vapid discussions of who will break this news to her and so she's up and on her feet.

"I will tell her."

"What?" Abby looks her way, "No… no, no no." she shakes her head and raises her hands, "It should be Tamsin." she raises her voice in that whiney way.

"You are weak!" Lexa grabs her daughter-in-law by the lapel, "Snivelling and bleary eyed before my daughter yet mourns!" she shakes her back and forth, and Tamsin doesn't have the fight in her to fire back. Her teeth are gritted and no one moves an inch, they all know better.

"How… how do I tell her this?" she finally speaks up, and Lexa feels entirely guilty. "I can't hurt her like this…" she wipes her nose and tries to stand a little taller, tries to be the warrior once more, but these people are now her family too and she knows she doesn't need to make pretenses.

"Then I must." Lexa holds her shoulder, and Tamsin knows this is a kindness. The work of a Heda. Lexa squeezes her shoulders and holds them, "I will be the one to hurt her."

…

She howls something beyond screams, her hands are clawing at her chest and neck like she can rip the very skin away and tear at the lining of her lungs and make it stop, but the noise keeps pouring out of her mouth. It reminds Lexa of when she was small, the first time she saw the lambs led to slaughter and the noise they made as they were pushed towards the block.

She's still round, and that's the worse part, she knows she's pushing her daughter closer and closer but the block is still to come.

"Ma… Mama." Bo mouths, red eyed and frantic, her arms and legs are flailing and without thought Lexa grabs her and stills the rampage in her bones.

"I'm here," she promises her, squeezes her tight. "I am here… Isabeau." she whispers again and again until she is still.

Minutes pass and they're all there, dribbling in one by one, sometimes in turns. Tamsin is first. She's apologies and tears and they're united in grief. Lexa feels entirely voyeuristic for being present, but she lowers her head and steds her ground like a lion protecting its cub.

"They wouldn't have been in any pain… the stress, it just... was too much." Clarke tries to explain these things but they fall on deaf ears, all but Lexa's, and she takes some tiny comfort in the words. "We can't take you into surgery," she tries and it's entirely too soon, "...You lost too much blood at the schoolhouse and your body is already getting ready."

Clarke hates herself, she should be able to fix these things, but she can't. Bo is wrapped around Tamsin, her head buried into the crook of her shoulder.

"I can give you more painkillers, you won't feel a thing…" she tries desperately to keep it together.

"I already feel too much." Bo whimpers from Tamsin's shoulder with that raw voice, and all the stars have been put out, the wind ceases to move, the world has stopped spinning and the sun has been dimmed out. "I don't want the painkillers."

"Are you sure?" her voice is quiet.

"I **don't** want the painkillers." her voice is shaky and too certain.

…

They are finally alone and outside. Clarke is slumped against the wall, covered in the blood from a nicked vein she sewed back together, her knees are up to her chest and the tremble wracks her.

Tamsin and Bo are inside, and they shouldn't be alone, but Bo is determined to do this the Trikru way and Clarke is powerless to refuse her this tiny thing. So they wait, and each sob from behind the door is agony to listen to.

"I'm sorry," Lexa kneels in front of her. "I… did what I thought was best."

"What if she had died?" her eyes are accusatory and her hands pummel her chest with slaps and she finally cracks and the floods fall from her. "What if my baby died because you didn't take me with you!" her voice trails higher.

"We didn't know."

"We never know!" Clarke seethed, "Every time she goes on patrol, every time you ride to broker peace between two clans, every time we go to the damn lake we don't know what's waiting for us."

"She saved those children." Lexa shook her head and finally flopped to sit beside her wife and hold her hands, "Twenty-three of them, all alive and well, because she was there."

"Does it make me a bad person to wish that she wasn't?" Clarke sobbed, her head flopping against Lexa's shoulder.

Lexa doesn't answer, because she thinks the same, and maybe they're both bad people for feeling so vicariously and selfishly. "Leo has been under Kane's ward all day, we should tend to him, we can't help her through this next part." she tries quietly, tentatively.

…

It's the early hours of the morning but she knows they're all outside, waiting, and she feels a mix of happiness and bitter sadness over these things but it all bubbles into a simmering resentment. Tamsin is tall and proud, and she looks so impossibly big with such a tiny bundle in her arms, but she's so careful and gentle in her ministrations, wiping the baby's face and rocking it softly with motherly hums.

"I don't want to see." Bo bites, turning away on the bed, somehow holding it all together.

"My love…" Tamsin tries, her brow quirks and it's a mixture of hurt and confusion, she takes a step closer but it's too much. Bo scoots so far back against the bed she might fall off.

"Get it away from me!" she seethes, red eyed and bitter.

"The baby is a-"

"-Don't you dare." Bo shakes her head and weeps bitter tears, "Don't make this harder."

Tamsin abides these things, and it eats away at her, but there is a painful joy in this. Holding her tiny sleeping baby for the first time. The baby has fair eyelids and long lashes and a pouty lip and they're all entirely Isabeau, and she's so proud, so ready to show this tiny thing she made off.

"I'm going to put the baby in the bassinet and give your family word, when you're ready to hold her, I'll be here."

"I don't want to see them."

There's a pause, and Bo is silent as she leaves and the silence is all Tamsin can hear, but the first faces she sees outside aren't sad ones, they're all bunched together and hopeful and waiting, and although all of this is immeasurable, she knows they'll get through it.

"What does the baby look like?" Abby speaks up first, hand in hand with Kane. She's smiling, and although she's crying, and everyone else is crying too, these little things make it better.

"She's perfect." Tamsin nods, and tears are streaming down her face, and they're happy tears just as much they're sad. "So… perfect." she nods into her hands.

"Who does she look like?" Octavia inches closer, Lincoln not far behind.

Tamsin looks up and bites her lip until she can push the fire in her chest down, she tries to speak. But she looks at Lexa. Stares at her. And it's apparent to all of them. "She has your lips and I think my father's nose."

"A daughter?" Lexa's eyes widen and her chest puffs up with pride, "A little girl?" she says again, looking between Tamsin and Clarke.

"She's tiny." Tamsin nods and her tears are now dribbling to the floor. "She has Roan's chin." she lets out a little laugh and Lexa doesn't know why but she laughs too.

"Congratulations, Momma." Clarke pulls her in for a hug, and it's tight, her hands are between her shoulders and for a second Tamsin wonders whether she can feel her heart twisting and breaking behind the skin and muscle. She's unsure on the title, she's not sure whether she's earnt it, but she likes the way it makes her feel; being someone's mom.

"I'd like to see her." Lexa speaks up, quietly, rising from her chair.

Tamsin pulls away from Clarke's hug and she's flustered, it's so late the sky is beginning to break into the light purple shades of morning, and Bo told her. Every ounce of her feels like she should honour her wife's request, but in this moment she knows what her wife needs above her own desires.

"Just you." Tamsin nods and gives the rest an apologetic look.

…

Lexa walks in first and Tamsin lingers by the window outside, watching over the bassinet that the Heda inches closer towards. Tentative little steps. Because she is the first in five generations to see a grandchild born and her heart feels like it is being swallowed whole by her gut.

"Nomon… get out." Bo barely manages, her body is vibrating with quiet tiny sobs and she's facing the wall, either unable or refusing to turn to face the bassinet.

"You haven't called me nomon since you were four years old."

"Please… get out."

Lexa pauses, and she's not sure who she should go to first, but she sees tiny little feet in the bassinet and she can't stop herself. She looks asleep. Lexa scoops her into her arms and Tamsin was right, she's tiny, she has ten fingers and ten toes and Lexa can't think much past that. It astounds her, amazes her even, her child's _child_. It feels like days since Bo was this size, and she sorely misses it, at least when she was this size she could cure her pain with little more than a jostled jug.

"Isabeau…" Lexa tries, and she can barely speak, completely absorbed in this tiny thing. "Look how beautiful she is."

"I can't." her voice is tiny.

"She looks like you," Lexa holds the baby to her shoulder.

"Please… don't."

Lexa takes the seat in front of the wall, the baby is pressed to her shoulder, and all Bo can see is blankets and tiny feet poking beneath them it's still too much. She closes her eyes and a sob wracks through her.

"Tell me her name." the commander whispers.

The words are on her lips but yanked back by her throat, she's crying, and she's a mother, and her baby won't wake up to feed or whimper, and she can't think past that. "Her name is Colt." she forces it out.

"Colt." Lexa nods in approval, staring down at the little bundle. She traced over her finger over a little birthmark above her brow that reminded her of her own mother's. She wasn't certain of these things. But they felt right.

"I'm scared."

"I was too." Lexa nods, careful not to jostle the baby in her arms. "I was your age, and your mother handed you to me and I was so scared… terrified. We watched the sun come up together. Hold your daughter, Isabeau. Watch the sun come up together."

She takes strength from the words, and before she knows what she's doing she's taking and nestling the baby in her arms. Tamsin is there, by the side of the bed, squeezing her shoulder and beyond all this pain, there's joy.

"Hi," she whispers, sweeping her finger down a perfect button nose and over delicate little eyelids. "Ai laik yu nomon." she bounces the sleeping baby. "Isn't she beautiful?" she looks up at Tamsin with those big doey eyes.

"The most beautiful girl I've seen." Tamsin holds it together.

"Could I have a little time with her alone… would that be okay?"

"Of course, my love." Tamsin nods and Lexa knows this is her cue too, she stands from her chair but Bo catches her hand before she can leave. She holds it for a second or maybe more, and she's not sure what she wants to say, but she has to say something.

"Did I save them all?" she looks at her with pleading eyes, and she needs this, she needs something good to cling to.

"Twenty-three children went home to their parents tonight, because you were there." Lexa lifts her chin with pride, "Your sacrifice is not unknown to our people, it will be remembered every day for the parents of those twenty-three."

…

The room is hers and there is a window near the air vent, her shoulder is sore and she knows if her mother knew she was precariously balancing on this cabinet to peak over the window sill, she'd catch words.

Colt's eyes are closed, and in this moment, she is simply asleep. Bo kisses her fingers and holds her to her chest and does all these things that mothers do with little more than instinct.

"Grandma fell from the sky in a tin can… all the way from up there, can you believe it?" she looks down for a moment, then back to the purple and orange sky. "She fought an entire mountain. And Mom, Mom's a princess that travelled all the to us from lands made entirely of ice. As for Nomon? Nomon brought peace to all of our people, and me? I'm not sure what I'll do yet, maybe you'll be the greatest thing I ever do, hm?" she wonders, following the last glimpses of the pale moon with her eyes as the birds sing from trees beyond her sight. "Your mom loves you so much, she's not good with loving things, but she's the best at loving us. They all love you so much."

Sunrays begin to refract off of the glass, and if she squints just hard enough, she can make them out over the horizon. There's a certain peace to this, and she's glad she shares it with her first born. It's cathartic.

"I love you… " she holds her tight to her chest, "Yu gonplei ste odon, Colt." she cradles her as close as she can, staring up at rolling oranges and clashing purples that her daughter now owned. "May we meet again."

(**AN: Sorry if I fucked you up… but sometimes we all need a good cry! Moving forward, it'll be a lot more heavily focused towards Lexa, Clarke and Leo. Also, maybe we'll see Bo go to Polis alone and Tamsin back to her people, will their marriage survive?**)


	17. Old Bruises

(I recognise that many of you don't like the original content this story has and just want to see snapshots of a young Clexa with children, so I'm going to write a new story that is catered just for that and a little more in line with the season 3 canon universe. For those of you that still love this story and follow it, I don't plan on quitting anytime soon.)

The air is cool in that way that bites at her nose and cheeks, there are trees and more trees and little else and it helps her think whilst they ride in shared silence. The cool bite is almost a soothing distraction. It reminds her of when home was really home. Wherever that place was now, it wasn't to be found back in the forests of Azgeda.

They had told her time would be the greatest healer and it wasn't. The ache dulled but it was always there, like an old bruise that was permanently blue. She wondered whether these things were the same for Isabeau, whether the damned daughter of trees ached the way she ached; burned the way she burned, and craved the way she craved. It embarrassed her not to know the answer to these questions, but after their child's funeral Bo had left for Polis with little more word than not to follow and so she abided these things.

"I take it you've came to my lands for more than just my company, Tamsin." Lexa clears her throat. They're maybe five minutes or a million miles away from Tondc and Tamsin can't remember which for the daydreams she caught herself tangled in.

"Astute as ever, Heda." Tamsin nods and offers a short smile.

"Lexa." she finally breaks her stare from the road ahead and holds the Ice Princess's gaze. "You have earnt that much." she says, and it's sorrowful.

They ride on with small trots along the beaten path. The wind hums through the trees, it dances, and for a short while it alone is enough. "I'm told Isabeau has taken to life at court, my ambassadors tell me she reminds them of you in the days after your conclave."

"She is impressive." Lexa agrees, "...Or so I am told."

"So I'm not the only one removed from her life?" Tamsin bites and chews the inside of her cheek, it hurts, she can taste the iron and salt on her tongue, but it brings a strange comfort and satisfaction knowing even the heda, the great moon of her life, was also in this shared predicament.

"Bo does as she needs to do, she sends word, but Polis is a consuming world unto itself."

"Does she say anything of me?" Tamsin asks quietly, and there is a pause.

"No." Lexa frowns, "Nothing of Colt either… but these things will pass."

"What if they don't?"

"Then they don't." Lexa sits a little higher on her saddle, she thinks on these words, but she feels the resistance of her heart to commit to them. The truth was words had been sent, tiny things, about politics and other meaningless excuses to talk around true concerns. She so desperately wanted to ride to Polis and bring Bo home, to fix these things herself, but this was her daughter's fight.

"I've come to talk with you about more than Bo. The Ice Queen has taken ill, the healers expect she will not make it through the winter."

They know what these things mean, that Tamsin will ascend and her duties will call her often to Polis, right to the very tower in which Bo had locked herself behind, but for a short while, they pretend that they don't.

"And you are to take the throne?"

"I am." Tamsin whispers, and it's tinged with sadness.

"Your mother was a true warrior, I remember when I was a second, I heard the stories and they paled in comparison." Lexa reminisces, and Tamsin doesn't admit she's intrigued, although it's palpable.

"I only knew her as my mother."

"Quite rightly so, when King Leonartis-" Lexa stops herself and tenses her jaw with the ghosts of the past. "Her duties were to you first, you were little more than five, she chose to lead from the throne and it was a decision respected by all our people."

"Life finds humour in itself, does it not?"

"How so?" Lexa indulged her, knowing what would follow.

"You removed my grandmother from the throne and placed Roan on it, you removed my father from it, now the throne finds its way to me and here we are, under different circumstances than one would expect. It would seem you and fate share the same handprint."

"Fate and I are well acquainted. I remember them all well, Tamsin, but the duty to my people came above abiding fate."

"What were they like?" Tamsin asks, and it's strange, that this woman before her knew these people better than she had ever been given the opportunity to.

"Your grandmother, Queen Nia, was ruthless. Her duty to her people came before her duty to her sons and I would be lying if I didn't say there was a time I admired her for it. There was a time before Clarke when she took someone very special from me..."

Lexa's unsure on why pain still clings to the words; why Costia still ached like an old bruise; but she does and there's a part of her that is happy to remember and talk about her. She adores Clarke, she feels that through the very beat of her heart, but as there would always be an ounce of Clarke reserved for Finn, there would always be an inch of her that once belonged to another.

"...I took no pleasure in what I did. King Roan's reign was short but it meant something, he showed your people a light, that there could be a meaning beyond violence. I mourned for him when I found it was one of my own who took his life. The guna who did it paid with his own, but that was never enough for his brother, your father, King Leonartis. He believed his death to be my fault and that belief drove us to war."

"Do you think these things are written that my death will come at your hands too?"

"Nothing is written." Lexa mused, "I see all of them within you, Tamsin. Nia's ruthlessness, Roan's passion, your father's strength. Your people see it too. You will lead them to greatness." Lexa takes her shoulder, she holds it until Tamsin finally meets her stare and feels the weight of her words. "Long live the Queen."

…

Bo busies herself as she does every day, attends to every detail and performs her duties with a diligence Lexa once too possessed. This time, with the end of spring approaching, it's a feud between two villages on who has right over the crop fields between their lands. It drones on and it drones on and it reaches it's apex until it can no longer busy her mind from the truths she hides from.

"Enough." she raises her hand, flustered. "We will conclude this later today, I have other matters to attend."

The room piles out of the throne room until it is only her and Titus left. She feels his eyes on her and it makes her shift uncomfortably, she was still unaccustomed to his council and her birth right to deny it, but she was her mother's daughter and this throne she sat upon was not yet her own and so she abided his word and tutelage as best she could.

"You are distracted, Hedatu." he states what they both know and she shies away her gaze. "You must be stronger than the ghosts that haunt you, when you take the throne, there will be more. You must learn not to hear them-"

"Don't." she warns him with a flash of her eyes, "I am _trying_."

"Then you must try harder." he scolds her, his arms crossed and his stare tense. "Queen Tamsin has been waiting for a meeting for three days to talk of new trade routes, you cannot refuse her for much longer."

"The Queen will be refused no more!" Tamsin pushes past the guards at the door, her hair pushed back by a new crown. It has been months. Like they were children once more between summers spent on patrol and hunting through the eastern valleys, they both had changed.

Bo sat upright from her slouch, her chest disagreeing with the urge to speak. Tamsin is there and furious and beyond Bo's last memories of her and she is powerless to say anything that could mean something.

"Hedatu… Queen Tamsin." Titus steps back and announces her forced entry.

"Leave us." she whispers, and Titus abides.

"Five months!" Tamsin seethes, shakes, feels every second of the last five months hurtle to the forefront of her everything. "My mother _died,_ Isabeau!"

She looks to the ground and she's ashamed, it shocks her that she doesn't feel more, she's sure later on she will. For now, she feels shame. It decimates her, conquers her, leaves nothing else in it's path.

"Titus says you wish to speak of trade routes." she holds her resolve, bites it back and keeps it just there.

"I can't do this anymore." Tamsin feels her insides twist and gnarl, she pounds the floor and she knows right now it's the only thing stopping her from pounding the guards who wait outside. "I thought you would come back, I thought we would deal with it together and get through it, but you left me to suffer alone!"

Bo is silent, and the empty sound is deafening.

"I lost Colt too, Isabeau." she breaks, her shoulders finally slumping in defeat.

"Not the way I did." Bo hangs her head, it's the first time she's heard that name since the funeral and it's too much. It's all she can hear, and all she can think and taste, the way the sun hung low and the way the smoke rose into the clouds and the way she watched the world crumble in the reflection of Tamsin's eyes as their daughter returned to ash. "I just… I couldn't."

"I won't sacrifice myself any longer, Bo." her words are laced with a poisonous resentment that eroded them both. "You locked yourself away in this prison whilst the world kept moving outside, your mothers, they're worried sick!"

"The world didn't keep spinning, not for me." Bo finally raises her tone and there's a gnash to her jaw, a shudder that runs through her. "I understand that leaving you like that, it was unforgivable, but I was trying to give you a chance!"

"I lost my daughter too." Tamsin felt her cheeks grow taught and the heartbreak is palpable, but before she can shatter, she's gone. Her coat flowing with catched wind as she left the room and disappeared down the corridor to her envoy, and Bo wants to believe she'll come back, that they'll fix it and heal these shared and threshed wounds, but she knows this is the last time.

"I'm sorry." her voice is tiny, she wants to scream it, she needs to chase Tamsin down and fall at her feet and plead it until she is believed. Her teeth work her lip until there's the taste of iron and salt on her tongue and her chest turns into an abyss, but she sinks to her knees, until the hard slab greets her shins and she keeps herself there. "_I'm so sorry._"

**AN: Okay, so, the next chapter is just Clexa and Leo, we have a bumpy road ahead but they'll be some fluff and we'll all get through it together, friends.**


	18. News Regarding S3E07

AN: Guys, if any of you are as fucked up over the ending of 3.07 as I am; I've started writing a new fiction to resolve the storyline in a way that's going to make you all lose your shit with the way it ties together with everything we've seen so far in the canon-universe. I've got the whole thing mapped out and I can say it's one of the best fictions I've came up with.

The Bitanic might be going down but I've got enough lifeboats to save every man, woman and child up in this bitch. Go check it out in my profile, share it on Tumblr, send it to a Clexastan/family member you love, blog about it, talk fan theories, guess where it's going next, volunteer in an elderly care facility and read it to a nice lady called Jean. It's called One Shore To The Next and it's going to save your life.

(Expect a new ficlet added to this story in the coming week, currently trying to cover the main ground with this new story and get it on its feet.)


	19. The Heda Returns to Polis

It was a violent day; one of the few in Lexa's memory where the sky rumbled and dark storms fired arrows of bright light down into the trees as if the Gods themselves had declared war on this earth. It was just the weather trying to look busy, Clarke had reassured Leo and the rest of the children in the village as they crowded round her legs for reassurance. Though it didn't reassure Lexa or the gnawing in her gut that told her something darker was coming.

A year had passed by since she last saw Tamsin like changing of the leaves. Bo visited now and again, brief little visits that were entirely political, she no longer smiled at the gates and she no longer gave Lexa's best generals trouble and the Heda missed these things sorely. Word had travelled to her from her loyalists in all the realms of her rule that tensions were mounting between the Azgeda and the alliance; word from the new Queen remained non-existent each time Lexa attempted to maintain some form of peace.

"Clarke, this is a sign." Lexa muttered under her breath with her arms folded behind her back as their people came out of their homes to watch the sky growl and bark.

"You can't be serious." Clarke snorted.

"Isabeau is destroying the alliance with the Azgeda. Titus informs me that the situation is too far out of control; they've suffered their harshest winter and Bo will not hear council about how to proceed."

"Stop worrying," Clarke ran her thumb over the side of her temple though it did little to calm her nerves. "She has to make mistakes to learn from them."

"They are not her mistakes, Clarke! I am the Heda. The decisions made in my name are _my_ mistakes." Lexa leaned in a little and her voice was barely tempered. "War is brewing, we will return to Polis before the end of day's light. We're needed in the capital."

"Lexa if we go sweeping in there whilst Isabeau—"

"Clarke!" Lexa finally barked with a hiss and it took her back with surprise. "We are returning to Polis." she measured her tone and tried desperately to remain some semblance of restrained. "I will ride now, please bring whatever you need and join me tonight." she said softly, regretfully.

Lexa waltzed off with her chin drove high as her generals and advisors swarmed her like bees to honey and Clarke knew there was a sick sense of enjoyment in this for them all; that the idea of going to war once again after all these years of peace made them salivate and shiver with excitement.

"Tamsin bad, Mommy?" Leo looked up at her with big doe eyes and a cupid's bow that ran endlessly over his lips. He was innocent… too innocent for these things.

He was all the shades of Lexa, long shaggy brown hair that was braided off his face and deep green eyes that saw all of their transgressions, but he was gentle and quiet like the dusting of snow that falls in the clearing each winter. Far too smart for two and half years old with a toothy lofty grin that caught them off guard even in their worst moods.

"No, Sweetie." Clarke smiled softly and knelt in the soft dirt beside him. "The truth is we're all just trying to survive as best we can, okay?"

Leo nodded but understood little of what she said or meant. "We go see Bo?" he asked and slowly shifted his weight from leg to leg.

"I'd like that very much, wouldn't you?" Clarke forced a grin and rubbed his shoulder.

"Miss her Mommy."

"I miss her too," she whispered and pulled him into her arms, "Mama misses her so much." her voice quivered a little.

"She's her baby too?" Leo looked up knowingly.

"Clever boy." Clarke nodded and marched off after her wife with him in her arms. "Mama will always be there take care of you both, okay?"

"Okay." Leo sighed and tucked his chin on Clarke's shoulder as they walked down the hill, content with these small promises. He watched the sky with wonder as it crackled and howled, dark and majestic as it was. "Sky's angry like Mama." Leo pointed up at the clouds.

"Mama controls the weather." Clarke wryly smiled and earned a look of surprised wonderment from their little boy.

…

"You have no right!" Bo shuddered indignantly and her fingers dug into the sides of the throne. Her chest heaved and her balance felt off, as if she couldn't trust her knees to bear her weight if she conceded this chair.

"Do you forget who I am?" Lexa said with a tempered restraint, she was as effortlessly powerful in all the ways Bo remembered from when she was a little girl; stood with her jaws grinding and her eyes alight with wildfire.

"No Heda," Bo conceded and bowed her head.

"Polis has gone to your head." Lexa muttered, "I shouldn't have encouraged this; leadership comes from the people, helping them and showing them your strength. You've kept yourself holed up here for two summers and the Azgeda think us weak because of it!"

"The Azgeda soldiers will starve before they dare rise up against our walls. It's the farmers in the south who grow their crops and our riders in the east who trade them the grain for transport." she sniffed with an acquired arrogance that burned Lexa. "We will enforce an embargo and starve them."

Suddenly, like a panther stalking its prey, a predator descending with a strength that out matched her indefinitely; Lexa was above her with her fists wrapped in the lapels of her coat, snarling and wild eyed. "You stupid girl." Lexa shook her head and for a single moment all the disappointment in the world belonged to her as if she were it's keeper. "You would starve women and children to prove a point of your strength?" she growled.

"And you wouldn't Heda?"

"If I pray for one mercy, Isabeau, it's that your mother never lives long enough to hear you talk like this." she released her daughter's lapels and shoved her into the back of the throne. "Losing that child… the pain poisoned you."

"Don't," Bo grunted through gnashed teeth, her eyes pooled though she refused to let a tear fall. "I was alone." she whispered.

"Dear child, you were anything but." Lexa shook her head, "Do you understand the gravity of your actions? Titus informs me you banished three Azgeda ambassadors in one month!" Lexa raised her finger. "Tell me, Hedatu, if we were to go to war with the Ice Nation. Could you kill Tamsin? Could you stare at her from across a battlefield and ride out into the thick of it to take her life?"

Bo looked away, eyes flickering between the ceiling and the floor and every inch of the room that wasn't her mother. "I don't know." she admitted quietly.

"Because if it meant protecting this family I could." Lexa nodded and there was a distinct absence of emotion to her voice, "I could cut her throat like I have Azgeda kings and queens before and I pray that from the decisions you have made I don't have to."

Quietly and of her own volition, Isabeau stood from the throne and removed her pauldron until she was no longer cloaked in her mother's colours. "I'm sorry I let you down, Mama." she whispered and side stepped the commander.

Lexa grabbed her wrist and held her there, "No. I'm sorry I let you down, Bo." she replied and Bo realised the disappointment in her eyes was reserved for her own actions. "We will fix this." Lexa nodded and patted her shoulder.

"Tamsin refuses to talk with us." Bo said quietly, "I didn't mean to do this, I just, I thought if I forced her hand she would have to come to Polis and speak to me herself."

"I once forced your mother's hand… I had her brought here against her will and she held a knife to my throat because of it." Lexa shook her head and stared off to the balcony where the breeze forced the curtains to dance in a little rhythm. "Some wounds do heal, Isabeau."

…

Their room was how they left it. Strangely so. For a moment, Lexa imagined Clarke peering around the edge of the balcony wall with the blue jacket she wore when she first came to this place. Instead she found the room quiet and lit dimly with candles, the only thing breaking the silence being the sound of Clarke humming to their restless son.

"Commander," Clarke bit as Lexa closed the door.

"Clarke, I'm sorry about earlier." Lexa sighed and winced.

"Your duty to your people comes first, I get it." Clarke shrugged and rocked their son to her chest.

Deftly, Lexa made her way to them and dropped her armour and her coat and belt on the way with big clangs to the floor that jolted their barely awake son. "You are my people," Lexa bent over the arm chair and pressed her lips to Clarke's head and her hand to Leo's chest. "My duty is to you."

"Mama," Leo mewed and reached his arms up.

"He doesn't know this place… he won't sleep because it isn't home." Clarke cleared her throat and handed the commander their boy.

"There, there," Lexa hushed him and rocked Leo in her arms. _"Straun goufo."_

"How did it go with Bo?" Clarke huffed with crossed arms.

Lexa was too absorbed in the little boy to hear her, she was smiles and glassy eyes and exaggerated expressions whilst she rocked him in her arms though he was already getting a bit too big for it. "What?" she finally looked up.

"Bo? How was Bo?" Clarke encouraged her.

"Bo will be fine." Lexa nodded and bit her mouth. "I was too hard, Clarke. I shouldn't have let her go in the first place."

"She'll come back from this, we're here now." Clarke cupped the commander's cheek in her hand.

"We see Bo?" Leo yawned tiredly.

"Tomorrow," Lexa promised and brushed her nose along his. "I think she'll be so happy to see you, little starling."

"What do we do now?" Clarke took the boy from her arms and laid him down on their bed.

"I will bring Tamsin and Kazran to Polis for peace talks. Titus informs me Kazran is her second in command and he doesn't want a war as much as we do." Lexa breathed a deep sigh and nodded.

"We should all get some sleep." Clarke yawned and draped her arms around Lexa's shoulders. The commander touched her waist gently and pressed her nose to Clarke's nose. They stood there for a moment and righted themselves.

"I was so angry." Lexa whispered regretfully.

"She's your daughter, Lexa. These things will pass… I promise." Clarke pressed little kisses to her cheek. "Don't lock her out, include her in what you do next, show her how to be a leader." Clarke nodded and pressed a soft kiss against the Heda's lips.

"Mama," Leo called from the bed, grabbing his feet.

"Yes?" Lexa pulled an inch away from Clarke's embrace to look down at their son with a lofty grin.

"Story, Mama." he grinned back.

"Yeah Mama, tell us a story." Clarke wrapped her arms tighter around Lexa's waist with a smile pressed into her collarbone. "Tell us about the first time you took Bo hunting." she encouraged her wife, knowing how much the story cheered her up.

"Of course that girl of mine would catch a jaguar on her first hunt." Lexa shook her head and wanted to laugh. "Why I expected anything less was foolish." she chuckled.


	20. Queen Tamsin Returns

Clarke awoke to the sound of her restless warlord's brooding; it came in the knocks of her glass hitting the table as she put it down to fill it to the brim with more wine, it came in the deep sighs that nestled in the chasm of her chest, it came in a heaviness that somehow settled itself on top of the room and stirred her from her restless sleep.

"You won't find the answers in your cup." Clarke took her off guard and sat herself beside the Heda on the threadbare sofa. "Whatever it is you need an answer to." Clarke murmured and rubbed her bleary eyes.

Lexa shifted and chewed on the swallowed up sighs that kept her arisen. Clarke nestled her head against the bare skin of her shoulder. Placed a little kiss to the underside of her jaw. Rubbed the forearm that bore the weight of her cup. Somehow, it was the exact total sum of necessary things needed to allow herself to deflate and breathe once more.

"Something bad is coming and it's gnawing away at me." Lexa whispered and shook her head and ran her knuckles over her arm, her nose against the length of her temple, her mouth up to the wisps of her hair.

"Something bad is always coming… always over our shoulder. Whatever it is we'll face it together, okay?"

"Always so fearless." Lexa couldn't contain the corners of her mouth.

Clarke's hands crept around her neck and nursed her jaw with thumb pads rubbing and tending to the wound up muscles that set in whenever Lexa thought too much. "I think fear fears us… we're a very strong team." she wryly grinned.

"Mama!" a little cry came from the direction of their bed.

"I think someone knows you're out of bed." Clarke mouthed as a little face with messy braids that hung in his eyes peered through the darkness at them.

"Yes, son?" Lexa softly smiled at him and her jaw was finally loose.

"Come hold hand." he jutted out his arm and ordered the Heda, the commander of twelve clans, the great warlord herself out of her seat to come and nurse him back to sleep. Finally, after a little pause and a soft eye roll, she relented and padded softly across the floor towards him.

"Let's hope he grows out of this before he finds a wife." Lexa murmured as Clarke followed closely behind.

"I'm sure she won't mind bunking with you both." Clarke poked her side and earned a disgruntled little noise that made her chuckle.

…

Her throne was equal in every measure to her mother's: neither an inch shorter or an ounce lighter, they sat side by side, all shoulders and pomp and unflinching stares as their people piled in one by one to ask the favour of their court. More than once when the room emptied out and Titus left to usher in the next waiting counsel, she caught the Heda break face for just a moment and throw a little curious eye her way and a stifled prideful smile.

It felt exactly the same as it did when she was a child. She remembered it so well and yet so vaguely. Her mama was always followed by clusters of warriors and ambassadors who hung off of her every word. Battles and skirmishes came and the herd thinned, though her mother was always there, always the epicentre of wisdom. She would trail behind and watch it all so closely, study every inch of her posture and the way her lips curled up to her teeth with the strength of her words but there was always a moment spared and a second taken to smile that prideful lofty grin at her firstborn.

"Day dreaming?" Lexa whispered quietly as Titus left to fetch the next in line.

"Always." Bo smirked and patted her hand.

"Your mother requests your presence at dinner tonight." Lexa said sternly and wrapped her coat around herself.

"My mother has never _requested_ anything in her life." Bo said mockingly and grinned at her mother until she faltered and smiled to. "Rest easy, I want to see my mom and aunties and uncles, I miss how fun it is when we're all together."

"You mean you miss how fun it is when we're all drunk." Lexa rolled her eyes.

"I've never seen you drunk." she noted, "Mom always promised you were a great dancer though."

"Your mother speaks true."

"Heda," Titus stepped inside nervously and it immediately caught her attention. "I present Queen Tamsin of Azgeda." he bowed.

She was regal and stiff like a swan cutting through glades, high-headed and white as snow, she stepped into the room with a pace and as if she commanded the echoes themselves all words and thoughts fell away and Bo was left staring and blinking and doing little else. Tamsin was as beautiful as she always was, a crown keeping her white hair out of her face, dressed in furs and leather from her trip here from the northern borders, strong pale hands that were balled into fists… she was so alive and furious and beautiful.

"Queen Tamsin," Lexa cleared her throat and eyed every Azgeda clansmen who followed her into the room, all staring and grinding their jaws in silence.

"You're the grandmother of my daughter," she sneered but kept her stare trained on Isabeau with each word, watching her flinch, feeding on it like a pariah. "I think we're past such formality."

"Very well, you may still call me Heda." Lexa growled and demanded her attention away from her daughter.

"Perhaps you care to explain, _Heda_, why Polis and your daughter leave the Azgeda people to suffer without enough grain to see us through spring?" she crossed her arms and circled the room. "Were two kings and a queen not enough Azgeda blood for you, Commander? do you wish to bleed us all dry?" she flashed her icy blue eyes at them and earned the approving chuntering noise of her people.

"Enough," Bo hissed and stood from her chair. "Don't you dare talk to my mother like that."

"Why, what are you going to do?" Tamsin postured herself and rose her chin.

"Queen or not, I'll still kick your ass." Bo gnashed her teeth.

"You'll lose your hand before you strike me." she moved for her dagger and the clansmen behind her erupted into noise.

"You're an idiot."

"An idiot with a faster sword hand and you know it." she pointed the blade in her direction.

"Silence!" Lexa rose from her seat and roared. "I will not see this holy room disrespected by both of your childishness," she snarled and her chest rose with eyes that darted between the two women. "Tamsin we will discuss an arrangement more suitable for you and your people over dinner tonight." she breathed and put a measure on these things.

"As you wish, Heda." Tamsin said quietly and sheathed her blade, turning for the door.

"—We were not expecting your arrival and so I don't have appropriate quarters for your stay. I trust you will accept my hospitality and share the Hedatu's floor."

"What?" Bo eyed her.

Tamsin furrowed her brow in rare-agreement with her estranged wife.

"If memory serves me correctly you are married, are you not?" Lexa sniffed and looked between them in that disapproving way that made Bo's stomach hollow.

Tamsin ground her jaw and crossed her arms, "That is entirely up for debate—"

"No. Not tonight it isn't." Lexa smiled softly, "I remind you, Queen Tamsin, your threats against my daughter only go unanswered with the removal of your head from your body because you are in fact my daughter by extension of marriage."

"Ma," Bo leaned in and whispered quietly with desperate eyes that Lexa wouldn't fall victim to.

"It is settled," Lexa cleared her throat. "Queen Tamsin and Isabeau will take residence in the Hedatu's apartments for the duration of the Azgeda's official visit to Polis. The rest of your escort is welcome to pitch tents in the outerland." she nodded towards the warriors and stood from her seat. "Titus, have the Hedatu's wife's belongings brought to her room." she nodded at her handsmen and he nodded right back with a shallow nod of approval.

"I am a Queen before I am anyone's wife." Tamsin shot her a look and her mouth curled into a bitter expression at the taste of that word on her tongue.

"Perhaps in Azgeda lands." Lexa called behind her shoulder as she strode out the door and earned a hidden little smirk from her daughter.

…

Tamsin existed amongst them like an imposter, someone who was once welcome at the table and now was a begrudging fixture, she was painfully aware of the fact and so she kept herself measured and kept herself quiet and did these things as her mother always taught her.

"You're very quiet." Clarke leaned in and whispered as the others chuckled and laughed and topped up their cups. They talked tall stories and small stories and Bo was right in the middle of it, soaking it all up, basking in the warmth of family and good wine whilst her mother hung over her with an arm wrapped tight around her shoulder and her fingers pinching her cheek.

"You and I have that in common." Tamsin raised her brow and swallowed a little sip of her drink.

"I'm afraid we don't… or at least for entirely different reasons." she chuckled, "I like to watch them. Her in particular." she nodded at her wife as the Heda allowed herself a brief moment of wile and fun. "You can be married to someone for twenty years and still find yourself enjoying small things about them. I catch myself looking at her sometimes and it terrifies me."

"I don't follow." she indulged this charade.

"I think of my life, our life," she muttered. "I was so stubborn back then. So angry with her. I think about how much I would have missed out on if I hadn't forgave her and it terrifies me." she mused and played with her cup.

"And this has to do with me because…?"

"No reason." Clarke shook her head and smiled.

A familiar song played from the song box and the tune lulled her in like a predator luring it's victim and before she knew it; she was swallowing more wine and glancing away in frustration.

"I get it… it's your song." Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Forgive me, I'm not fluent enough in Skai to follow your meaning."

"Really?" Clarke flashed her an incredulous grin. "We all danced to this song at the wedding."

"A lot has changed since then."

"Tamsin," a little voice called up at her and tugged the sleeve of her coat until she glanced down at his big gentle eyes and saw the boy named for her father. "Dance?"

"Loving the hair," she chuckled and bent down to push back his little shaggy mane, "Unfortunately tiny man, I don't dance." she smiled softly and couldn't help herself otherwise.

"That's a lie." Bo murmured and crept up behind him to grab his waist.

"Why doesn't she dance?" Leo looked at his sister.

"Because," she ruffled his hair. "Tamsin is too serious."

"I think given the circumstances my resolve is more than appropriate." she bit and earned a little whimper from the boy that she instantly regretted.

"Nice one, idiot." Bo growled and waltzed off with her brother in arm.

"I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise." Clarke shrugged, "She hurt you, you left, it's complicated."

She let out a deep pent up sigh and leaned back in the chair, "She has a point though… maybe being Queen has gone to my head."

"Most definitely, power goes to everyone's head. Just look at Bo… she was willing to risk starting a war just to get you here."

"Bo is stupid at worst and naive at best."

"I warned you before you married her," Clarke leaned in and whispered low. "I told you she would be a handful on her best days but you loved her since that very first summer. You let that girl go and I assure you, Tamsin, it will be you who's stupid at worst and naive at best."

"I hate to interrupt your speech my love, but would you care to join us?" Lexa held out her hand.

"Gladly." Clarke grinned and stared at her girl with those doe eyes that made the Heda blush.

"You too albino." Raven pointed her glass at the Queen. "We can fight and argue and tear each other apart tomorrow, tonight is for family." she pulled her reluctant figure out of her chair by the arm and dragged her towards the circle.

"We dance now?" Leo looked up at her with gentle uncertain eyes and a pouty bottom lip.

"Leonartis has never danced with a queen before." Bo flashed her a playful look and pushed her little brother forward gently.

"Neither have you." Tamsin forced a nervous smile that nearly winded her. "How about, just for tonight, we all dance together?" she suggested and the boy piled her and wrapped his arm around her legs.

"Just for tonight." Bo nodded and took her wife's hand.

"One last good memory." Tamsin forced a little soft smile and slipped her hand around the small of Bo's lithe taut back.

Clarke and Lexa danced from a little further away, arms wrapped around each other, talking and muttering small things in each other's ear. Lexa watched their children dance with the Queen and Clarke watched her watch them.

"They'll be okay." Clarke buried her nose into Lexa's shoulder.

"They're still young." Octavia stood beside them and crossed her arms with a pitiful look. "They've got so much to figure out."

"Somehow, we all succeeded... I am sure they will too." Lexa assured herself and watched the Ice Queen melt in her daughter's arms. "I'm sure of it." she said more firmly and earned nods from them all.


	21. Update!

Hi guys!

I just wanted to thank you all for being so faithful to this story. I haven't forgotten or shelved this fiction and I'm working ( more like struggling) on the last few chapters to tie it all up. I just wanted to let you all know because I do get a lot of messages asking me what's happening and I've always been so grateful of how much love everyone gave this story.

In the interim, I've moved over to a new Tumblr (diaphonouswords) and I'd love it if you would all come and follow me on there so I can take your prompts. I'm also happy to take prompts inspired from this story so if you ever wanted to see one shots from when Isabeau was a baby or maybe young Clexa pregnancy feels or whatever your heart desires, my Tumblr is the best place to reach me!

Again, my Tumblr is Diaphonouswords, come be my internet friend!


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